


No Response

by Kylie_Smilie_26



Category: Monty Python RPF, Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylie_Smilie_26/pseuds/Kylie_Smilie_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during filming of the <i>Holy Grail. </i>The Pythons have spent a night in Doune Castle to see if it is haunted. One of the Pythons gets lost and the others go to look for him. This is what happens after they find him. Shit summary I know…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea what is going on with the muse lately, but it's produced yet another fic... and this time it's a work in progress... and that could be a wonderful thing... or a disaster waiting to happen. I guess we'll see what happens.
> 
> Read if you so desire... and those who do, I hope you enjoy it. I am very curious to see what you guys think and if you'd like to see more. I do have another chapter pretty much ready...  
> This idea came to me after reading a fic called _The Haunting of Doune._ Basically what happens in this fic is that Michael and Eric have a conversation about Doune Castle being haunted and Michael goes to find out more. His search results in him and the other Pythons spend a night there, where they are each led blindfolded to different parts of the castle and expected to find their way back to the main room. Eric gets lost and the others need to find him (which they do). This is where my story takes a different spin on the original and what I think could have happened. ;)
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.
> 
> So a big thank you to the author of the afore-mentioned fic for the idea. If you ever come across this, I hope you don’t mind that I’m doing this, and enjoy my continuation.  
> 
> **My thanks as always goes to my darling Meg (mevh88) for being such a wonderful friend and inspiration. *hugs* <3 Dedicated to you and all the other M/E shippers out there**.  **Thanks to anyone who commented on my other fics, you do help feed the muse so thank you! :D**
> 
> Just for something different I’ve rambled on and if I don’t stop it could be longer than the fic! :P Well this chapter anyway!
> 
> Hope you enjoy. *hugs* Feedback would be lovely and I hope you fall in love this baby, even just that little bit. 

***M &E***

　

They had found him. It had taken longer than he had expected due to the twisting, winding secret passage. _Yeah, no doubt Eric got the short straw, this would have to be the creepiest part of the castle._. It was little wonder that poor old Eric had not been able to find his way out of there. Hell, they had had to split into groups to search for him. And they had the advantage of being able to see where they were going, unlike Eric who had been blindfolded. 

Eric was sitting crouched down on the cold, damp floor, leaning against a wall. His arms were wrapped around his torso. He appeared to be looking right at them; however his eyes were staring blankly ahead as if in a daze. He was drenched in cold sweat. God knows what experiences he had endured in the four hours (or more) since being dumped here.

"Oh thank God." Michael exclaimed, rushing over to his good friend. "You okay?" 

No response. 

"Eric?" He touched him gently on the shoulder so as not to startle him. That was the last thing he needed at this point. 

After several moments he finally broke his staring into space and looked up in the direction of the voice he had heard. "Mike?" 

Mike allowed himself a small smile. "Yeah it’s me. It took us awhile, but we got here. When you said lost you weren’t wrong. You got yourself in a good mess didn’t you?" 

Eric nodded grimly. "I s’pose." His voice seemed so quiet and small, and it was somewhat disturbing. Especially given the traumatic night they had all gone through. 

"You okay Eric?" Terry asked, as he scanned the small room for the fifth time. He was a little worried about Eric’s odd behaviour.

Michael was more than a little concerned about the normally unflappable Idle. Eric had hardly put two words together since they had finally located him in what had to be the smallest and furthest room in this dark labyrinth. Eric was hardly the shy and retiring type, even in his more serious moments. This was most unusual, and slightly disconcerting. 

"I bet you’re ready to get out of here, it’s freaking ghastly." Gilliam observed. "Should we wait for Gray and Cleese?" 

"No need." They turned to find Graham and John approaching them. Gray took one look at Eric and the doctor in him became worried. "How are you Idle?"

Again, no response. Eric merely sat there, his eyes seemingly looking through them.

"Has he spoken at all?" He asked the others. 

"Not really." Terry replied solemnly. "And it is odd; you know how Eric loves the sound of his own voice." 

"Ooh Terry, put the claws away love." Gilliam joked, trying to lighten the sombre atmosphere. 

Graham nodded. "Has he recognised any of you?" 

"Yeah he has." Michael replied, getting more concerned with each passing moment. He was also full of guilt – after all, it was his idea to spend a night here. "Gray what are you getting at?" 

"I think he might be in shock." 

"Well who wouldn’t be after everything that’s happened tonight?" John remarked, it had been a harrowing night for him too and he just wanted a nice warm bed... with a light on. Not that he’d tell the others. 

Graham shook his head. "No I mean actual shock. It’s where your body can shut down as a result of a traumatic experience. It’s an acute stress reaction." 

"Why?"

"It’s a coping mechanism. It’s a way of protecting the self from potential dangers." 

"Okay okay, can we just get out of here? It’s creepy as hell." John asked, getting a little freaked out himself. 

Graham slowly approached Eric. "Eric? It’s time to get out of here and back to the hotel." 

As he expected he received no reply from his harried friend. "I’m going to help you up alright?" 

Eric didn’t reply but did flinch at Graham’s touch, retreating further into himself. 

"Oh hell, what are we going to do?" Mike asked, "We do need to get out of this goddamn forsaken place." 

Graham paused for a moment. "Who did he respond to before?" 

"Mike." Gilliam replied.

"Mike, you need to try and help him. He responded to your voice earlier, he might again." 

Michael nodded, "Yeah alright." He followed Gray’s lead and spoke in soft tones. "Eric? You want to get out of here huh? We’ve got to get back to something that’s considered liveable." 

Eric remained silent but after a few agonising moments allowed Michael to help him up. Michael was quite relieved that he was responding in some small fashion to _somebody_. He felt a strange sensation run through his veins at the realisation that it was _him_ that Eric had subconsciously chosen. 

Pride? Satisfaction? Happiness? He wasn’t sure, but he felt it nonetheless. 

It soon became obvious that he was even struggling to stand up. No sooner had Michael got up to a standing position that Eric was flagging against him, falling back down and pulling Michael with him. It was like his legs had given out, or that he’d suddenly lost the strength in his legs to keep him upright. 

Michael, and the others, looked to Graham at this turn of events. "Hmm, thought that might happen." He mused, "Just try again Mike. This time you’ll know that he can’t really support himself, so you’ll have to do it." 

"Carry him?" 

Gray shrugged, "Not necessarily, but it might be the only way to get him out."

Mike nodded, and directed his attention to the near catatonic Eric. "Come on Eric, let’s try again eh? Don’t be afraid to lean on me. I won't drop you or anything." 

They eventually made their way out of the labyrinth of the twisting and seemingly endless passage, found the secret staircase that led them back to the Great Hall. It was a tedious process, with Eric hardly able to stand let alone walk, Eric gripping onto Michael (and the latter did subconsciously enjoy it), but they somehow made it back to their motel. 

　

***M &E***

　

Michael worriedly watched a sleeping Eric. He was lying on Michael’s bed after he had fallen asleep on the drive back to the motel, obviously worn out from the traumatic events of the last few hours. At one point he had rested his head on Mike’s shoulder. 

It was now almost seven in the morning. He had had no sleep, and was beginning to feel the effects. A part of him desperately wanted to sleep for three days. The other had to stay awake. It was _his_ fault that Eric was now so withdrawn. "I can hardly keep my eyes open, but I should stay awake in case he wakes up." 

_Poor old Eric, I wonder what happened to trigger this reaction? Damn I hope he snaps out of it soon…_  
  
He yawned, and knew his body was going to defeat his mind and ever-increasing guilt. "Oh what a hell of a night…" 

And he had a feeling that it was going to get worse before it improved. 

**TBC…**

  



	2. No Response Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am well and truly in shock. The muse is alive... I can hardly believe the sheer amount of fic it has produced in the last three weeks! After some interest and positive feedback for the introductory chapter of No Response, I decided since Chapter Two was ready I may as well not leave you hanging... please enjoy and as always your feedback does feed my muse...
> 
> I will try to have the next chapter (should there be interest) up in the next week or so. I've got no idea how many chapters there'll be, but I'm thinking at least five. Only the muse knows the answer to that (and perhaps my busy teaching life has some say too) ;) 
> 
> Enjoy. :)
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Two**

 

I don’t know where the hell I am. There is no way out. Everywhere I turn seems to lead to another dead end. It is getting darker, and that phantom seems to be getting closer every passing moment. 

Where the hell are they? They said they were going to look for me. 

They promised… 

“Eeerrricccc… Eeerrricccc…” 

Oh fuck. The bleeding phantom knows my name. 

I’m screwed… 

Guys, where are you? And what is that thumping noise???

I want to go home… I want to go home… 

 

***M &E***

 

Michael was woken up by someone knocking quite loudly at the door. Disoriented, he stumbled out of the chair, and fell quite hard onto the carpet. “Why am I sleeping on the chair when there is a comfy bed…” 

It was then he remembered, “Crap, Eric.” 

He picked himself up from the awful brown coloured carpet and turned around to check on his friend. _Oh shit Idle, what’s going on in that brain of yours eh?_ Eric was completely hidden under the blankets, and from what Mike could ascertain he had shifted down somewhere towards the end of the bed. 

He cautiously moved towards the bed. _Do I sit on the bed? Or just try to get a response, sitting on the bed might scare him even further into retreat._ He decided on the safe approach and merely stood next to the bed… 

Thump. Thump. 

“Palin? You alive in there or what?” 

“Bloody hell!” Michael was unable to refrain from cursing at the intruder, even if it was someone who knew more about this developing situation than him. He walked over to the door, “Jesus Gray, are you trying to kill us both?” 

“Sorry Mike old boy. How is he? Any change?”

Mike shrugged, he didn’t know if there were any changes, good or bad, in Eric’s condition. He hadn’t had a chance to find out. But surely if he was responsive he would have said or done something by now… “Dunno, I’ve only just woken up. I was about to talk to him…” 

Graham put his hands up, indicating that he understood. “You need your rest too Palin. It’s fine. Let’s just see how he’s doing eh?” 

Mike had his doubts that Eric had miraculously recovered, especially given the brief glance he had moments ago. He led Graham to where Eric was sleeping, well at least Michael thought he was sleeping. He could be awake, or worst case scenario lapsed into a coma or something… 

_Fuck, I hope not… the world would be a lesser place without Eric…_

“Well Idle, what’s all this for then?” Michael’s chaotic inner ramblings were halted by Gray’s concerned, yet upbeat tone. He was obviously referring to how Michael himself had stumbled across him several minutes earlier. 

“He was like that when I woke up. What should we do?”

Graham pondered this for a moment. “Well he can’t stay under the duvet like that forever, that wouldn’t turn out very well…” He chortled at his own little joke, probably out of nervous habit more than anything. “I think we need to tell him what we’re about to do so we don’t startle him.” 

Mike nodded, “So what is the plan?”

Graham shot a slightly bemused look at the youngest Python. The roles had reversed; normally it was Michael who was the sensible and clear-headed one out of the two of them. Graham was usually drunk or hung-over, which meant that he was rarely thinking clearly. Maybe _this_ was the reason he had stopped... at least for the time being anyway. He wondered what had got Michael so tense… besides the obvious. Of course he was going to feel responsible for Eric’s plight, he was the “nice” one. “We get him out from under there and sit him up, make him more comfortable.” 

“Okay Eric, we’re going to get you out from under there alright?” Graham spoke in a calm and soothing manner. They gently eased the blanket away from him and noticed that his eyes were wide open, and they were darting around at a furious pace. They had that glazed, faraway look about them again. It appeared like he was trying to escape from some hellish place, despite the fact he was almost still in his movements.

“Well hello there Eric, how lovely to see you.” Graham spoke as if Eric was completely aware of his surroundings, like it wasn’t any different to any other day. Maybe that was what you were supposed to do for people who had gone into shock, Michael mused. “Now we’re going to sit you up so you’re more comfy okay?”

No response from Eric. It was really getting to be quite a serious problem, he had said all of three words since they found him and seemed to be retreating further into whatever hell was currently occupying his genius mind. When Graham went to help him, he again baulked at his touch. 

“Alright Eric, Mike will help you sit up okay?” 

Michael waited until Eric’s eyes focused on him before he made a move. “Hi Eric, I’m going to help you sit up alright?”

Eric showed little resistance and allowed Michael to sit him into a more comfortable position on the bed. "There ya go Ewic. You'll be comfy now." 

 

***M &E***

What the hell is going on? I'm still in this blasted secret passage, yet I'm hearing things that I shouldn't be hearing. I'm sure I'm hearing Mike and Gray talking about something. It is the strangest sensation, because they seem so close, but sound like they're in another planet. "Hey guys, I'm down here! Get me out!" 

I suddenly feel someone, or something touching me. It was almost as cold as everything else. I recoil back, hearing, (and feeling), my back crash hard into the wall. Forgot that was there. 

I then hear Michael's soft voice, I've got no idea what he's saying but it's nice and it calms me just that little bit. I again feel someone touching me, but this time their hand feels warmer and I just go with it. I hope that it's Michael, is it too much of a coincidence that I can hear him only moments before someone touches me on the arm? 

"Please guys? This isn't funny anymore." I am freezing, and shit-scared. I swear I'm losing my marbles... 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Oh hell...

 

***M &E***

 

Graham had had to leave. He was the star of _Holy Grail_ and filming had to go on as normal as possible. There was no chance in hell that either Terry would allow Gray to miss too much considering Eric and Michael were out for the forseeable future. 

It was decided that Michael was the one who was going to look after Idle, because he was the only one he had shown any inclination to respond to in any fashion. Besides, he was sure he would want to be the one to look after him even if this wasn't the case, _I need to feel like I am helping Eric overcome his shock... it was my fault after all._

Michael silently observed his fellow Python, who had hardly moved since Graham had left half an hour ago. He could scarcely believe the change in Eric in the space of a few short hours. It was surreal to see the normally vivacious and outgoing Idle a mere shell of his former self. 

At least Eric wasn't any worse... at this stage. Gray had said that he didn't seem to be any different to before when we had found him in that prison of a room. So no worse, but no better either.

He did stress one thing though, if Eric didn't start responding soon, he would really be in some trouble. 

_Come on Idle, you have to get better... Python wouldn't be the same without you..._

 

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading. :) Thoughts?**


	3. No Response Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is up with my muse??? :o This is entirely unheard of for me... I can tell you! :o :) I don't think this will last forever so enjoy it while it lasts guys...
> 
> As always I hope you enjoy and feedback is most appreciated and it feeds my hungry muse. Thanks to all who read, regardless if you leave a reply. *hugs*
> 
> Still no idea how many chapters this little baby will have - there's a fair bit of life in this one yet. :) If the interest continues, who knows where it will end? ;)
> 
> Dedicated to all my lovely readers *hugs*
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Three**

 

Terry saw Graham wearily approach them out of the corner of his eye. He looked exhausted, and after the previous night, they all were. If he was honest with himself he didn't feel like filming anything today... but the budget was tight enough and it was just too expensive to take even a day off... At least they had finished all the shots at Doune... 

"How's Eric?" He asked him as he came up to meet them. 

Graham shrugged. "No change." 

"Is that bad?" Gilliam asked. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think that could be all that good... 

"Well it's not bad, because he hasn't got worse, but at the same token it's not good." 

"Poor old Idle." John sighed, taking a muchly needed puff of his cigarette. "I wonder what happened to make him react like that, I mean it can't have been too much different to what we went through... we were all taken blindfolded to a separate part of the castle." 

"We all thought we saw a ghost when we were in those rooms didn't we?" Gilliam pointed out. "Well perhaps because Eric couldn't find his way out..." 

"Who can blame him... it was like a fucking maze in that passage?" John interrupted, even now feeling a long shiver run through his entire body as he remembered walking in near darkness trying to locate the lost Idle. 

Gilliam didn't appear too put out by the interruption. "Well yeah, and coupled with how much longer he was trapped in that room and the fact he was talking about some phantom that seemed to be following him, maybe it was all too much." 

Terry nodded grimly. "Yeah, but still I am surprised that he's had this reaction. I mean despite how daunting and frightening it must have been, I would not have expected the one and only Eric Idle to be beaten by it." 

"Sometimes it happens to someone you least expect." Graham remarked as he lighted his pipe yet again. 

"Okay, let's get this thing done eh?" Gilliam said a few minutes later. 

 

***M &E***

 

Michael continued to watch his good friend in silence. It was just him, his chaotic thoughts and an unresponsive Eric, who still had not moved bar the odd jerky hand reflex and his sapphire blue eyes occasionally looking around him. It was like he was trying to figure out where he was, but on the flipside those same eyes that normally were so expressive and full of life, currently spooked Michael; as they still had that almost haunted appearance to them. 

He had no idea how long he had sat on the chair watching Eric, who for all intents and purposes had reverted to a young child... No scratch that, he was more like an infant rather than a child, unable to do anything for himself. _And it's all my fucking fault. If I had not have gone off doing that damn digging to indulge MY curiosity Eric would not be in a virtual bleeding coma now on my bed, in my motel room. He must have endured something fucking horrible to resort to retreating so far into himself he can't do anything. It's so wrong seeing him like this... I can't bear it..._

He unconsciously got up and slowly walked over to the bed and ever so cautiously sat down beside the tall, slender Eric whose oddly delicate features now seemed even more delicate (if that were possible) given his current state. Now that he was sitting beside him he felt a strange connection to the near comatose Idle. He couldn't explain it, but he felt the need to thread his hand through Eric's limp one. Something akin to a shock of static electricity went through him, which he found odd, yet refused to delve into potential reasons as to why. 

"Hullo Idle it's only me." 

No response.

_Oh man Eric, I'm so sorry..._

The sudden growl of his stomach not only brought him out of his inner ramblings but made him aware of the fact that he hadn't eaten for almost twelve hours. "Right, time for some food Palin." 

As he was preparing a simple sandwich and coffee (how the hell he had lasted without some caffeine in his system after so little sleep was beyond belief), he came to the startling realisation that if he hadn't eaten for the best part of half a day, then Eric wouldn't have either. "Shit. How am I going to get him to eat?"

 

***M &E***

 

Bloody hell it's freezing. I thought that you couldn't get any colder than a Scottish morning filming on location. Boy was I wrong. I don't think I've ever been so fucking cold in my life. 

Why haven't they come for me yet? Gee I hope nothing's happened to them... knowing my luck that damn phantom thing has done something... 

I can't hear Michael or Gray anymore either. That scares me more than being able to hear them but not see them anywhere. I need to hear something familiar... 

I don't readily admit to being scared, but fuck... this is hell on earth. It's almost like some massive meteor has hit and I'm the only one left standing in this small, dark, freezing room that has nothing but dead ends. 

From somewhere I feel a slighty comforting presence. A hand tries to slip into mine and it does soothe me just that little bit. 

Did I hear Michael? 

Just as soon as I feel that slither of comfort it's gone again. 

I just want to go home... 

 

***M &E***

 

Michael gently sat down on the bed, a glass of water with a straw in one of his hands. While he had eaten he had also taken the time to decide how to best approach getting some sustenance into Eric, who he highly doubted would be able to feed himself. 

"Alright Eric, I've just realised it's been a good while since you've had anything to eat or drink. You must be thirsty." He paused for a moment, hoping for some response from Eric, even just a tiny meaningful flicker from his blue eyes. But nothing. 

"I got you some water... okay so I know it's not the good stuff, but if you're a good lad and drink some of this I'll see what I can do." He joked, desperately hoping that might get some reaction from the catatonic Idle. 

"Are you going to have some? Come on, don't make me have to feed you. I'm sure you don't want that." 

No response; not even a small hand movement to take the glass. 

"Please Eric? Just a sip. Please?" He implored, staring at Eric with blatant concern adorning his handsome features. _Damn, I was hoping for his sake that he'd be able to drink the water on his own._

"Okay Idle. I'm going to put this straw in your mouth alright?" A small part of him was glad that he had to gently pry Eric's dry, cracked (yet lovely), lips apart, his fingers again feeling a tiny jolt of static as he touched those lips. He placed the straw in between the upper and bottom lip and allowed nature to take care of the rest. Eric would have no choice but to swallow, even if he didn't want to. 

That said, he still felt relief flow through his veins when he saw Eric take a sip of the water. 

"That's it Eric." He said encouragingly, a smile filtering through his relief. "Come on, have a little more." 

It was a gradual process, but Eric slowly drank about half the glass before refusing to drink anymore. 

_Well, it's better than nothing... but he is going to have to do better than that. Next question, how am I going to get him to eat something? Drinking you don't have to chew, you just swallow. Maybe some soup... he wouldn't have to chew that..._

_Yeah, not bad Palin, not bad._

 

***M &E***

 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Oh hell it's back... 

Guys, please??? I cannot take this anymore, you have to get me out of here. 

This is so not funny. Please... I'm trapped... and lost. I seem to get deeper into this stupid maze of a labyrinth. It doesn't matter which way I turn... it seems to swallow me whole each freaking time. And it's cold. Have I told you that already? 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Fuck it's getting closer. It will be the death of me... 

In amongst the cold, dark terror I feel that soothing presence make its return. I don't know how I am able to determine that this presence is not the creepy, terrifying phantom... but this presence has a warm, gentle aura radiating from within. 

_"Alright Eric, I've just realised it's been a good while since you've had anything to eat or drink. You must be thirsty."_

Mike? Where are you? And why do you still sound so far away? 

Hang on... why are you talking about food? I suppose I am a little hungry, and thirsty now that you mention it. 

_"I got you some water... okay so I know it's not the good stuff, but if you're a good lad and drink some of this I'll see what I can do."_

You're hilarious Palin. Bloody hilarious. I'll drink all the water you want if you just get me out of here. And where did Gray go? 

_"Are you going to have some? Come on, don't make me have to feed you. I'm sure you don't want that."_

Come on Palin, stop playing the damn clown and get me out of here already. And why the hell are you talking to me as if I'm a child? Contrary to popular belief I am a mature adult... I can have a glass of water without help. 

_"Please Eric? Just a sip. Please?"_

I would, but I don't see any water anywhere... you know I'd do anything for you Mikey...

Where did that come from Idle?

_"Okay Idle. I'm going to put this straw in your mouth alright?"_

God Mike don't... please... 

Shit you did, I can feel your hand on my mouth... just, but I can. 

I suddenly feel cold water run down my throat. 

What the hell??? 

This is getting beyond freaky now. I am still in this tiny, freezing room; but I can hear and feel Michael yet not see him, couldn't see the water he claimed to have, but can feel the water go enter my mouth and go down. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Fuck. I almost choke on the water. Okay, no more Palin. Just take me to wherever you are. Please?

 

***M &E***

 

Michael blearily opened his eyes to find that he had fallen asleep despite the caffeine. _Not surprising really. Shit, did I give Eric some soup?_

_Eric!_

He turned to find that not only had he fallen asleep, but had slept beside Eric; a catatonic Eric no less, but still. Was I asleep on his shoulder??? 

The wet patch on Eric's shirt confirmed that thought. _Fuck._

But why was there a part of him who not only liked that fact, but loved it? 

_Maybe that's because you like being close to Eric..._

He haphazardly ran a hand through his growing dark hair as that most inner and secret desire sprung to life. 

_Oh hell... this could get very interesting..._

_But only if he starts coming back from wherever the hell he is..._

 

**TBC...**


	4. No Response Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well... the muse is on a roll I can tell you... more's the pity! Here's the next chapter of No Response. I hope you enjoy it, and as always my muse is a hungry and greedy bastard (hmm... E Idle anyone) so feedback is always appreciated.
> 
> Dedicated to all you amazing readers, and a special mention to my wonderful Meg, roadiepoadie and unwilde for being such loyal and devoted readers! <3 you all!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Four**

 

_I wonder if he’s actually had any sleep since those few hours he had early this morning. Oh those eyes… those amazing blue eyes, they seem so listless… lifeless… fuck you’re scaring the shit out of me Idle. You have to come back to the land of the living, you hear me Eric? You can’t do this to your family, to Python… to me…_

Michael was drawn out of his deepest, damn near intimate, yet chaotic meditation by a soft tapping at his door. Realising he was still lying next to a comatose like Eric, he gently eased himself off the bed so as not to disturb and frighten his fellow Python into even further withdrawal. He was worried that it might be too much of a battle for his friend to fight back as it was. 

“How’s he doing? Any change?” 

He inwardly smirked at the greetings from the rest of the Troupe. No “Hello Mike. How are you going?” That said, he knew had he been not the one taking care of Eric, he’d be doing exactly the same thing. He’d probably be worse. _I’d be banging that damn door down; champing on the bit to find out how he is._

“Mike?” Terry’s soft voice brought him out of his reverie. 

"Oh, hi guys. No, no change. He’s still lurking in the depths of whatever hell is invading his body.” Michael eventually replied, moving to allow them inside his small, but comfortable motel room. “Are you sure that you all being here won’t make him worse?” He asked, deep in thought. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you here but would it make him retreat even more?” 

Graham pondered this for a moment. “I doubt it. It might cause him to sink further shock or withdrawal but I honestly don’t believe it will. And who knows… maybe somewhere in that mind he’s hearing us, which can only be a good thing.” He paused to take a breath before continuing, while the others absorbed this information. “We don’t know much about such an illness. We really don’t know much about the brain, but I find this science totally fascinating.” He let out a small chuckle. “I hope that when Idle does return to his full state of consciousness he is able to tell me about his experience.” 

The others couldn’t help but laugh quietly at this. “Why am I not surprised Chapman?” John commented, as they made their way towards the bed where Eric, Michael noted (with growing apprehension), still had scarcely moved from hours earlier.

“So what do we do?” Gilliam asked, staring worriedly at his friend. He couldn’t get over this change in the space of twenty-four hours. 

“Mike, would you like to do the honours?” Gray asked, turning to Michael. 

“Just talk to him like you normally would guys. I know that sounds stupid, but really that’s probably the best thing for him. Like Gray said, he possibly can hear us, so it’s gotta help. The only thing I’d suggest is to make sure you keep your voice pretty quiet, talking too loud does appear to upset him.”

“Well what’s going on you lazy old bugger eh?” John asked, trying to keep his tone light, even though he was somewhat haunted by that dazed, almost melancholic look of Eric’s blue eyes. 

“Yeah mate, I mean I know you _always_ want the attention on yourself but this is ridiculous.” Terry mentioned in a flippant manner – despite the fact there was _some_ truth to that statement – after all he was the Greedy Bastard. 

The others laughed softly (because it was true, but they all loved him for it), however there was (as expected), no response from the man they were all hoping would suddenly jump up and declare them all played or something. They _would_ kill him, but it was better than the horrible truth. 

“So haven’t you even got out of bed yet?” Gilliam asked, shaking his head in something akin to sadness. 

“No you haven’t, have you Idle?” Michael answered for him glibly, despite being desperately troubled by this, particularly doubled with the fact that he hadn’t really even moved from that spot on the bed. 

“Tut tut Ewic.” Terry wagged a finger like a parent or teacher would to a small child in trouble. “You really can’t stay in bed all day… it’s not healthy.” 

“Well you _could_ stay in bed all day.” Chapman remarked, “But you would be making better use of it than just wasting the day away.”

“Come on you lazy bastard – talk to us.” John near pleaded, “You do realise that you’re going to massively pay for this later don’t you Idle? The Terrys are going to have your guts for garter for taking not one but two key players in _Grail_ out of action.”

No response. 

Terry had been silently observing his good friend and had noticed his lack of movement. “Has he even moved Mike?” 

Mike shrugged sadly. “Not really. The odd jerky hand movement and his eyes wander round the room at random intervals but nothing substantial.” 

Graham absorbed this news in concern. “Hmm, that’s a little worrying. Keep an eye on that won’t you Palin?” 

_A little worrying? A little? It’s all a fucking worry._

“Mike? Are you okay?” Terry asked, taking in his close friend’s dark circles and haggard appearance. 

“Yeah… I’ll be alright. It’s just a little daunting looking after someone who is like this you know?” 

The others nodded in agreement. 

“And I’m sure you’re doing a terrific job Palin.” John assured. “He’ll be back to his egocentric self before you know it. You’ll see.” 

 

***M &E***

 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Fuck. Leave me the hell alone. Mikey, where have you gone? 

Damn it Mikey I’m scared shitless here. I want out…

God, there are too many voices in this freaking place… 

_“Well what’s going on you lazy old bugger eh?”_

Cleese, is that you? Where did you come from? And I’ve got NO idea what’s going on… 

_“Yeah mate, I mean I know you always want the attention on yourself but this is ridiculous.”_

Jonesy? What on earth is going on? And what was that supposed to mean??? That was harsh… I want to go home… it’s freezing here.

_“So haven’t you even got out of bed yet?”_

Gilliam? Are they all here now? What is this, pick on Idle day or something? 

Bed? What bed? There’s no fucking bed. 

Mikey… where are you? 

_“No you haven’t, have you Idle?”’_

There you are. I was beginning to wonder what the phantom had done… 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Will you leave me alone??? I want to go home... I want to go home… 

_“Come on you lazy bastard – talk to us.”_

I _am_ talking to you. This is a nightmare; it has to be a nightmare. Wake up Idle, wake up. 

 

***M &E***

 

“Ahh, I needed this.” Michael sighed blissfully as he felt the hot water cascade over him. 

He would not admit it to anyone in fear of mortal embarrassment, but Mike loved lathering up his lean and muscular body; getting all nice and soapy and clean. It was a girlie thing to do sure, but it was one of his guilty pleasures in life. The feel of the soap running down was one of the sweetest sensations he had experienced in his thirty odd years. 

The amazing hot water combined with his cleansing routing had a soothing effect on his overwrought nerves that pulled tightly on his muscles. The near scalding water also helped clear his guilt-ridden mind. “No one knew this would happen. And Eric even wanted to do it. He was pumped.” But his conscience would not allow him a moment’s rest – _Why did I force everyone to spend a night, a freezing night no less, at Doune Castle? Fuck you’re an idiot Palin. Look what’s become of Eric – beautiful gregarious Eric._

Michael stopped dead in his tracks. _Beautiful? Eric… beautiful? Did I really just say that?_

“Fuck I did.” 

He sighed, this time in a combination of annoyance, confusion and anticipation. “Oh hell Eric, why did you have to go and pull this stunt?” _I think it’s made me realise things I didn’t want to admit to._

“Why do you have to be so… you?” 

He soon realised there was a growing problem forming in his lower regions… and his wandering hand wasn’t helping matters. “Oh geez…” 

 

***M &E***

 

Michael stepped out of the bathroom feeling both refreshed and (somewhat) relaxed. He could have got lost in those sensational daydreams all day, but the sobering thought of an unresponsive Eric lying on his motel bed soon brought him back to reality. 

As he finished towel-drying his dark growing locks a thought struck him. A potentially very dangerous thought at that. Eric probably needed a serious bath, it had been a good thirty six hours since they had discovered Eric had gone missing and then located him. He had been not only covered in dirt and grime (and he knew how much Eric loathed dirt – he was almost anal about being clean) but he had also been soaked in perspiration. 

“Fuck. How am I going to do this?” 

_Alright Palin, one step at a time. First thing first, run the bath. Then get Eric into the bathroom._

He went back into the bathroom and got the bath going, filling it with blistering hot water and bath bubbles. He figured it might take a little time to get Eric not only into the bathroom, but ready to have a bath. If he filled it with lukewarm water it’d be cold by the time he would be in. _He really is like a baby…_

He walked over to the bed and kneeled beside Eric. “Okay Idle, so I was thinking that you probably need a shower or something… now a shower is going to be too difficult, so how about a special treat and I run you a bath eh?”

No response. 

“Well too bad Eric, the bath’s all ready for you, you lazy sod. So you’re getting one whether you like it or not. Do you think you could possibly get to the bathroom unassisted?” He paused for a moment, as if waiting for a minor miracle and for Eric to jump up and say that he’d die from embarrassment rather than allow a lovesick Michael to bathe him.

No response. 

_Damn it Eric…_

“I’m taking this to mean you want to be carried into the bathroom do you?” He allowed himself a chuckle as a cheeky grin adorned his features at the thought (despite his nervousness). “Your wish is my command your laziness.” 

He thought if anything was going to snap Eric out of it, that might have been it…

No response. 

_Alright Palin, here goes nothing…_

“Okay then Idle I’m going to lift you up.” He gently eased Eric into his arms, and enjoyed the feeling of Eric in his arms, despite the situation. _Oh god, it’s freaking bridal style…_

Slowly they walked (well Michael walked anyway), the short distance to the bathroom. Even though there was hardly anything of Eric, he was akin to a deadweight because he couldn’t hold himself upright.

“Okay, let’s get you into that bath eh?” He said, easing Eric down onto the toilet seat in order to undress him. _Think Band-Aid Palin, quick is painless._ “I’m going to take off your shirt now okay?” 

_Oh my god I’m undressing Eric fucking Idle… what sweet torture is this?_

He stopped to gather his chaotic thoughts that were quickly becoming something they shouldn’t… he reminded himself that Eric was practically comatose and non-responsive, which was why he was doing this in the first place. 

“Alright, let’s get those pants off.” _You’ve seen him in his naked glory before Palin…_ This was different – it was intimate and something a lover would do, certainly not a friend. And guys definitely did _not_ undress each other… 

“There ya go. Now let’s get you into that bath.” He quickly checked the temperature with his elbow and carefully lowered Eric into the warm water. “That’s not so bad is it?” He asked, almost more to himself than the catatonic Eric. “I bet you’re feeling better already.” 

No response… although did he see a flicker of _something_ in his eyes??? _That was probably my bloody imagination…_

“No? Well then maybe a massage will.” 

He proceeded to slowly and tenderly wash his friend _(tenderly Palin?)_ , using the sponge to cleanse Eric. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you, you greedy bastard… being waited on hand and foot. Getting a free massage… You so owe me Idle, I hope you’re aware of that.” 

Michael tried desperately to keep his growing awareness of his feelings for Eric (and the thoughts that accompanied said awareness), at a purely platonic level while bathing a very withdrawn Idle… but he was failing miserably. Particularly because what he was doing was so sensual and intimate, almost lovingly touching, sponging every nook and cranny. It was fast bringing him undone… 

_Bloody hell Eric, you will be the death of me…_

He felt himself growing hard for the second time in an hour. _Down boy… so not the appropriate time._

He decided to wash Eric’s long blonde mane (which he loved and could not wait to feel through his fingers) before he completely lost control of the situation. 

He reached for the jug that he had earlier placed on the floor and slowly poured warm water over his golden tendrils. He then put some shampoo into his hands and washed his hair, massaging the scalp as he went. _Oh my god… I could get used to this…_

“Almost done now Eric.” He said several moments later, and was glad that Eric wasn’t aware of his surroundings… he would not pick up on the huskiness of his voice. 

“There we are. All finished, all nice and clean and shriveled like a prune.” 

He grabbed a fluffy towel from the towel rack. _Now for the tricky bit… getting him out of the bath without doing something stupid like injure one of us._

“Okay Eric, time to hop out alright? You’ve got to help me out though… hold on tight otherwise you’ll fall back in.” He dried Eric’s arms enough so he would be able to get some grip around his neck. He put both of Eric’s arms around his neck and ever so carefully lifted him out of the bath. Once he felt reasonably secure he carried him, (rather unceremoniously), over his shoulder back to the bed. 

“Let’s get you dry and back into bed eh?” 

_Right hard part over, and you got through it relatively unscathed… although there is that fucking hard-on to take care of…_

It was then he realised that he wasn’t the only one with an erection. 

_Oh sweet fuck…_

 

**TBC…**


	5. No Response Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up guys. *hugs* But I hope it makes up for the wait because it's the longest chapter to date... the damn muse didn't want to shut up! lol *sighs*
> 
> As always hope you guys enjoy... written especially for you all! *hugs* <3 <3 <3
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated. <3 :)
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Five**

 

This is seriously freaking me out now. That damn phantom thing still has the gall to eat away at my last nerve and shred of sanity. Every time I think it might have left me alone it fucking comes back. And it really is rapidly destroying my rationality… well what reason I did have to begin with. There would be some who would be quick to suggest I have very little logic on any given day… 

I swear this damn room gets smaller with every breath I take. It’s like it wants to swallow me whole… I’ve well and truly given up on finding my way out of this _room_ let alone stupid secret passage; I’m just going to stay put. And that is slumped down on the cold cold, dirty floor and equally cold, grimy wall. 

Shit. I can’t hear anyone any more… where did they go? Weren’t they just talking to me? I couldn’t see them, (and to be honest they still sound so so far away – like they’re on another realm or something), but at least I am hearing them. It both comforts and taunts me. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Bloody hell. Leave me the fuck alone. I add another bruise to my fast growing collection upon my lily white skin as I smack into the hard wall for the umpteenth time. How long have I been trapped down in this nightmare of a room? It feels like it’s been forever. I feel so icky… covered in grit, grime, sweat and god knows what else. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Why won’t you leave me alone? Michael, where are you? I need you… 

_“Okay Idle, so I was thinking that you probably need a shower or something… now a shower is going to be too difficult, so how about a special treat and I run you a bath eh?”_

Huh? What are you on about Palin? A freaking bath??? How on earth am I going to have a fucking bath eh? Can’t you see where I am? 

Hang on… _you’re_ going to give me a bath? _You_ Mikey??? 

_“Well too bad Eric, the bath’s all ready for you, you lazy sod. So you’re getting one whether you like it or not. Do you think you could possibly get to the bathroom unassisted?”_

What the hell? Michael Palin are you serious? You have to be pulling my leg… 

I seriously can’t believe _you’re_ going to give _me_ a bath Mikey… I can’t fathom how this is possible, although you did give me some water that seemed to miraculously appear down my throat.

Just another thing to add to this extremely confusing, (and utterly terrifying), situation. What’s one more?

Mikey, can you just show yourself? What is with you guys all playing Ninja? 

_"I’m taking this to mean you want to be carried into the bathroom do you?”_

Carry me? Don’t you freaking dare… _(Although would it be so terrible…)_

What was _that_ Idle??? 

_“Your wish is my command your laziness.”_

Oh good lord… You wouldn’t, would you Mikey???

_“Okay then Idle I’m going to lift you up.”_

Oh hell, you _are_ serious… 

The only other presence, (the more gentle and soothing one), I have even come close to feeling suddenly creeps closer. I tell you what, it better be Michael that I’m sensing… heaven forbid if it’s someone (or something) else… 

Next thing I know, I’m being lifted up by warm(ish) arms and then cradled in someone’s chest only seconds later. Well I hope it’s a someone. I hope it’s Michael. Yet I still have not moved from this spot in this tiny, cold room. This is so incredibly bizarre. And horrifying.

This is the strangest sensation ever. If I didn’t know any better I would swear I’m being carried across a room by someone. 

_“Okay, let’s get you into that bath eh?”_

What bath? Where is this bath? 

I still cannot believe you’re doing this Palin. 

_“I’m going to take off your shirt now okay?”_

Shit. Seriously Mike? 

Oh. My. God. You are taking off my shirt… I can feel those hands on my freezing skin. _(It feels nice. Really nice.)_

You are going round the twist Idle. 

_“Alright, let’s get those pants off.”_

Bloody hell you are going to kill me Mikey… 

You feel so close Michael, like I could touch you if I moved even a little bit. I’m sure _you’re_ the comforting presence that is here in this ghastly room with me - well at least I hope it’s you... 

You did just remove my underwear didn’t you? 

That means I’m literally naked in front of you (despite the fact I still have my clothes on)… and _you_ undressed me. 

I think I’m going to die… 

“There ya go. Now let’s get you into that bath.”

You’re really going to go through with this aren’t you Palin? 

I feel those hands hold on tight and it’s like I’m being lowered into a bath… 

Oh my god… that water feels… heavenly. It’s so _warm_. And are those bath bubbles? 

_“That’s not so bad is it?”_

Are you kidding me Mikey? You don’t know how much I need this… I’ve been so bloody cold; I don’t give a damn if my clothes are getting saturated, I need to feel _something_. 

_“No? Well then maybe a massage will.”_

A what? Oh hell Mikey don’t. I don’t think I could stand it… 

_(Come on Idle, you know you want him to…)_

Oh geez… even my subconscious is betraying me. 

Fuck Palin. Those hands. They are amazing. You can do some wonderful things with those hands of yours Mikey. Both of the naughty and not so naughty variety… 

I could be in some trouble here… 

_“You’re enjoying this aren’t you, you greedy bastard… being waited on hand and foot. Getting a free massage… You so owe me Idle, I hope you’re aware of that.”_

Oh you’re not wrong Palin. I am loving this warmth… _(and your soft and gentle hands all over me)_. And yes, I owe you big time for this… I’m sure I’ll think of something… maybe return the favour whenever I get the hell out of here…

Oh. My. God. Are you washing my hair??? 

The answer to that is yes. Are you trying to kill me Mikey? This is mind-blowing. I never thought I would enjoy someone being so gentle while bathing me… I never thought I’d be the recipient period. It’s not exactly a manly thing to admit to liking so much… well, be honest Eric, loving. 

Mikey, you should have been a fucking masseuse or something… 

_“Almost done now Eric.”_

His velvet voice brings me out of my inner musings. I want to stay in this amazing warmth and feel those hands in my hair forever. Don’t stop Mikey, don’t ever stop…

In amongst all those incredible sensations that damn well nearly stop all coherent thought (and maybe start something downstairs), I vaguely hear his soft intonations filter through… something about telling me to hold on tight… what on earth for?

Oh bugger. I’m fucking cold again. It’s a little easier to deal with because I’m in his arms…

Why is it that I love that thought??? 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

At least, I hope it was Mikey bathing me… 

 

***M &E***

 

_Well what the hell am I going to do now? My hard on I can deal with… Eric’s on the other hand…_

**“You could do something about it Mikey…”**

_Bloody hell I’m hearing Eric telling me to fix his problem… I’m going mad..._

**“You know you want to Mikey… come on, touch my John Thomas…”**

_Stop it Idle, you aren’t helping matters!_

**“Oh hush Michael! Don’t be a spoilsport… I want you… I want you so bad…”**

_No I couldn’t. I can’t do that to you, not at the moment._

**“It’s not that hard Palin, just come here and touch me. You know you want to…”**

_You know I do Eric… fuck I want to…_

**“What are you waiting for?”**

_Oh fuck Eric, you’re so ready…_

**“Don’t stop Mikey… oh fuck…”**

_You’re fucking hot Idle, you know that? So unbelievably hot…_

**“Oh hell… is that your mouth?”**

_ERIC…_

Michael suddenly became aware of his surroundings. He was lying beside a naked Eric, who was still very erect – however still very much unresponsive. He also noticed a sticky mess all over his hand and on the sheets. “Oh shit.” _I just jerked off to the thought of stroking and sucking on Eric’s cock… what the fuck is wrong with you? Here he is beside you almost in a bloody coma and you’re jerking off right next to him… nicely done Palin._

_There’s still that problem of Eric’s hard on… I couldn’t possibly do what I just vividly daydreamed…_

 

***M &E***

 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

That blasted phantom thing seems to get closer and closer… I wish it would go away. It gets so close I can feel its breath, which is colder than this bleedin’ room. I want that amazing warmth back, please Mikey, I need that lovely feeling again. Take me back there Michael, or better yet take me to you.

I don’t know what you’ve done to me Palin, I don’t like it when you’re not near me, when I can’t hear you; feel you… it wasn’t that long ago I could handle being on my own just fine. Fucking phantom has even taken that from me. 

It’s not like I haven’t heard the others since I’ve been lost, trapped in this hellish place. Maybe it’s because I sense you around more than everyone else – you seem so much closer or something. You make this horror movie a little bearable…

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

I hope it’s not this ghastly phantom or whatever the hell it is playing horrible tricks… I don’t think I could bear it if it wasn’t really you Mikey – I’d be in agony. In all honesty it would shatter me if I found out that it wasn’t really you… which may be the fucking phantom’s intention all along…

_“So you’ve got a little problem there Ewic…”_

That is Michael’s voice, but it sure sounds different (despite the fact I can only just hear it). Oh shit, maybe the phantom really is trying to send me up the wall.

_“I think we better take care of it don’t you Idle?”_

It is almost like he has lost his voice or something… but it does sound like his bedroom voice… surely not…

_“Would you like me to help you out Eric? Because I will if you want me to…”_

Yes, get me OUT of here! That’s my problem, but why can I still only hear you? Please, show yourself Mikey… I need to see you.

_“So are you going to take care of it yourself? Or do I have to?”_

I don’t see how I can, it’s not like I haven’t tried…

He grabs my hand with somewhat more force than what he has up until now. I wonder where on earth he’s going with this…

Oh… he did not just put my hand on my cock…

Fuck he did. And it’s hard. What the hell?

It doesn’t look like it is hard, but it is most definitely hard.

_“So you really liked that bath did you Eric?”_

Oh god… maybe that explains things… that bath was _sensational_ ; it really was. Those hands of yours are fricking incredible…

_“Well I’ll let you in on a little secret; I’m glad you enjoyed it so much… because I did too…”_

You did? Bloody hell Palin, you can’t keep saying things like that – and in that deep, silky voice. You’ll do silly things to me…

_“Does that feel better Ewic? I bet it does eh?”_

My oath it does. It feels so good Mikey… man those hands of yours. _I wonder what your lips…mouth… tongue would feel like…_

Christ Idle, easy tiger.

Damn your hands are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Nothing. Totally different to a woman. They are so soft, (yet I can feel the rough edges of callouses), and they keep doing wondrous things to my cock. 

You are going to bring me undone Palin… 

_“Are you close Idle? Tell me you’re close baby…”_

Oh fuck Mikey… so close. Did you just call me baby? 

Those hands keep alternating from agonisingly slow to almost too fast. And it drives me insane. You are amazing… when did you learn to be so good at this? Do I even want to know? 

_“Cum for me Eric. You know you want to…”_

Oh. My. God. Don’t stop… 

_“Don’t hold back, I’m right here…”_

MICHAEL… 

I am literally seeing stars; I’ve cum so hard. 

Fuck Palin, what on earth have you done with the Michael Palin I know and love?

 

***M &E***

**The following morning**

 

Michael held the steaming cup of coffee in his hands and sighed. _What the hell got into me last night? Bloody hell, masturbating beside an extremely withdrawn Eric was bad enough, but getting him off??? Where are your fucking morals Palin? Didn’t matter that you used his hand… you practically raped the man…_

“God I’m sorry Idle… I don’t know what came over me. You have every right to hate me for what I did last night.” 

He sat down on the old, comfortable lounge chair beside his bed where Eric lay – and he had hardly moved from the position that Michael had placed him after his bath. It appeared as if there was little or no change to Eric’s condition overnight. _I hope I didn’t inadvertently make him worse by relieving him of his erection… please God let him be alright. He’s very important to a lot of people, and damn it all, he’s extremely important to me… I think I’m in love with the effervescent, easy-going and extroverted, (well normally), Idle. It’s just taken something fucking serious like this to make me realise it… talk about bloody cliché._

He tried to stop his frenzied inner ramblings by taking a large mouthful of his divine coffee. He moaned in delight as the warm liquid melted down his throat, warming him inside out. 

“Well how are you this morning Eric?” He asked, expecting nothing but praying for some response. Hell, he’d even take just a look in the man’s baby blues that differed from that glazed, haunted and tormented yet disquieting blank guise; something that indicated he heard and understood him. Better still would be an actual verbal reply. 

No response. 

_Damn it Eric… don’t keep doing this to me…_

“I’m pretty good, thanks for asking. Looks like it’s going to be another freezing day - a good day to be inside lazing around. So do you plan on spending another day in bed?” 

No response. He continued to merely lie there; almost deathly still. He was looking, correction blankly staring, at the stained ceiling – his eyes occasionally continuing to glance around him. Michael was sure that he wasn’t actually taking in his surroundings. It was most likely an involuntary movement. 

“I guess I should thank you mate, you’re the sole reason for me getting time off filming _Holy Grail_. Who doesn’t love a holiday, an impromptu one at that?”

No response. 

Michael walked over to the bed and without a moment’s thought sat down beside him. With careless abandon he threaded his hand in Eric’s frail, limp one. Again, (despite the fact Eric was unresponsive), he felt this jolt akin to static run through him as he did so. _Perhaps it’s because I’ve realised what I really feel for the man…_

“Come on Idle, talk to me. Do something. Please?”

 

***M &E***

 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Whoever the hell you are, will you fucking show yourself? I am sick and tired of this. Stop playing chicken and man up. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

ARGH I’ve had it up to here… I just want to go home… I want to go home… and I don’t give a damn if I sound like a frightened school girl… 

I’m freezing beyond belief, I am so exhausted I could sleep for a week and I just want out… 

No more, no more… 

_“God I’m sorry Idle… I don’t know what came over me. You have every right to hate me for what I did last night.”_

Michael? Thank God. You have no idea how much I needed to hear someone familiar… you…

What on earth are you sorry for? You always seem to know when to make your presence felt – it’s like you know when I need you or something… 

Or maybe that’s my fucked up brain wishing for things that won’t happen in a million years. 

I couldn’t hate you Mikey… 

Oh… maybe last night was when you did the most extraordinary things to my cock? Don’t fucking apologise for that. Didn’t realise how much I needed it. 

_“Well how are you this morning Eric?”_

A tiny bit better now that I can hear you again. But damn it Mikey… I need to see you. Doesn’t matter that hearing you calms me somewhat – I still find it creepy that I can sense you but cannot see you for the life of me. 

_“I’m pretty good, thanks for asking. Looks like it’s going to be another freezing day - a good day to be inside lazing around. So do you plan on spending another day in bed?”_

But I didn’t ask you. Rude bastard. You don’t seem to be able to hear me… I can hear you but it doesn’t appear to work both ways. And you aren’t kidding about it being freezing… I’m going to die of fucking hypothermia if I stay here much longer. And what bed? I tried to tell one of the others that there is no bed here! 

_“I guess I should thank you mate, you’re the sole reason for me getting time off filming Holy Grail. Who doesn’t love a holiday, an impromptu one at that?”_

I’m even more confused, if that’s at all possible. Aren’t you guys still looking for me? Surely that much time has not passed and it’s now daylight… although you did say it was morning. Bloody hell I don’t know anymore. Like I ever have really since being trapped here (which has been forever)… 

Someone grabs my hand without warning. I jump a mile in the air and again land hard against the jagged part of the wall. 

_“Come on Idle, talk to me. Do something. Please?”_

Oh it’s only you Mikey. Phew… 

Why do you talk to me as if I’m scaring you? 

It’s just dropped about thirty degrees in this room all of a sudden, and the damn place is even more eerie… not too sure how that is possible… 

Something is wrong…

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

If I didn’t feel frozen to the core I am sure my jaw would drop to the ground in shock. The phantom is right here… 

“Didn’t think you’d see me again did you Idle?”

Oh fuck, kill me now… 

 

**TBC…**


	6. No Response Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the wait my dear, lovely readers. The muse didn't really want to co-operate with me on this one for awhile (and I've also been pretty busy doing my teaching thing...) I hope it doesn't feel too forced in places...
> 
> On the flipside... I had words with my muse and she did come good (I think).
> 
> This chapter may leave you with more questions than answers, but I have a suspicion you'll love the last little bit... :)
> 
> Please enjoy as always and feedback would be lovely.
> 
>  
> 
> **Again, dedicated to my amazing and beautiful readers - I hope it makes the rather long delay worthwhile...**
> 
>  
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Six**

 

No no no… 

This has to be the worst nightmare I’ve ever had… and I’ve had plenty of those. Fucking awful things. I need to get out, I can’t do this anymore. 

Surely this is not real…

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Fuck. It’s even worse now I can see his face. His voice is suddenly much more eerie – with evil laugh to boot – and his eyes… oh they scream the devil. Macabre and I swear they are yellow. It is something you see in horror movies. Only difference is, I’m living this nightmare it would seem. 

_Move_ Eric. Do something. 

“Oh poor little Eric. Cat got your tongue? Or are you just pleased to see me?” 

Oh my god. That laugh. That voice. It tortured me for so long while I was growing up… while I was at that miserable excuse for a school. Now I really _feel like I’m six years old all over again…_

“Ooh we’re gonna have some fun you and me Idle. And I bet you’re so happy about that aren’t you?” 

Mikey… where are you??? Weren’t you here a minute ago? What the hell have you done to him? He was about the only thing from making me completely lose my marbles while being stuck in this awful labyrinth… 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

Leave me alone, please, leave me alone… 

Please let this be a nightmare. 

***M &E***

Michael silently, worriedly, watched his friend. _Please Idle, give me something to work with here. You’re doing a fabulous job of making me feel more guilt with each passing moment. I don’t think I have ever felt so repentant in my life…_

He had no idea how much time had passed since he had sat beside the withdrawn Python. His hand was still entwined in the slightly older man’s delicate, yet calloused hand. _Probably from all that writing and playing the guitar on a daily basis_. He mused rather unexpectedly. 

“If I could play the guitar Idle, I’d play you something.” He paused, chuckling as his next thought came to him. “Maybe my shockingly horrific singing and my complete inability to play a note on the guitar might bring you back from wherever the hell your mind is…” 

_Maybe I should get his guitar…_

“No, you’d probably kill me if I even **touched** your guitar – we all know how you are about that guitar of yours. You get a little insane about that thing… you do the whole over-protective father thing.” 

No response. 

If this was any other day, he would envisage Eric making some flippant remark or deny it outright depending on his mood. _“Oh Mikey you know no one or thing is more important to me than you…”_

__Oh good lord. You KNOW he wouldn’t say that Palin, unless we were camping it up…_ _

__Still maybe one day…_ _

__Oh snap out of it Palin!_ _

***M &E***

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

Come on Idle… wake up… this _cannot_ be real, it just _can’t_. 

Get up Eric, you can find a way out of here… 

Or maybe not, I still seem to be suddenly paralysed – why can’t I even move now??? 

“Oh dear, what’s the matter little Eric? Can’t move? What a shame…” 

Fuck. What have you done you miserable bastard? Did you do this to me??? Wouldn’t put it past you… 

“Oh why thank you Idle. I’m glad you think I’m capable of such things, but sadly no.” 

Shit, is he reading my mind now? 

“Hehe, well that maybe…” 

Oh fuck… 

“Now now Eric, none of that language.” 

Sorry sir. 

“That’s better.” 

What are you doing to me? Why are you here? Now? None of this makes sense… 

“Only you can answer that little Eric. I’m in your mind…” 

No. You. Are. Not. 

“Hey, this is your fucked up brain, not mine.” 

That’s not fair sir. I’m a good boy, I’m a good boy… 

And you said a bad word. 

“Do as I say, not as I do.” 

But that’s not fair… 

“Oh bloody hell Idle, stop your fucking whinging. Sit down, oh you are sitting down, and shut up.” 

I want to go home… 

“I’ll be here for as long as I want. I’m the one in charge am I not?” 

I thought _you_ were in _my_ mind. 

“Who do you think you’re speaking to? Your idiot Pythons?” 

Sorry sir. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

Mikey, please? Where are you? 

_“If I could play the guitar Idle, I’d play you something…”_

“Oh isn’t that so cute? Don’t you just love how sweet that Michael is?” 

Shivers run through my entire core for the umpteenth time since this phantom, ghost, demon… whatever the hell it is, showed his face. Just that tone… 

_“No, you’d probably kill me if I even **touched** your guitar – we all know how you are about that guitar of yours. You get a little insane about that thing… you do the whole over-protective father thing.”_

“So you still play that bloody guitar? You always were useless… why do you insist on torturing yourself, and the rest of the world with your playing? If you can call it that…” 

I am _not_ going to cry, I’m not… 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

***M &E***

“Are you going to eat Eric?” Michael sat beside his dear friend, trying to get to him to eat something; he had managed to rustle up some chicken soup and was hoping he would take to it. Again, he could not refrain from keeping the striking similarities to that of an infant out of his conscious. 

“Please, for me?” He probed, putting on his most charming, (with more than a hint of depth, sincerity and earnestness tied in), voice that would get all the ladies literally swooning. Not that it was the ladies he wanted to be fawning over him if he was brutally honest with himself… “It really is delicious, and I’ve left you plenty… you must be starving you poor thing.” 

No response, not even a typical shit-eating grin and eye roll. 

(Which is something Michael would be more than happy to see.) 

Come on Eric… you **have** to eat. _Can’t have you wasting away, there’s not much of you as it is._

"Do I have to feed you again?” He asked nonchalantly, but feeling anything but frivolous – he was desperately trying to take his mind off the fact that this was getting more serious and crucial by the moment. It would be even more worrying if he refused to eat. 

“I promise it is really nice, and I’ll even blow on it so it’s not too hot.” 

He was sure if Eric was actually responsive he would definitely comment on the potential double (and dirty) entendre to what he just said. 

No response. 

He sighed, disappointed that it seemed that Eric still could not do anything for himself – even something as simple as eating soup – but a tiny part of him was glad that he was able to keep touching his soft, yet rough lips. Those lips were made for the most wonderful things – of that Michael was certain – he hoped he would get the chance to find out one day… one day soon. 

“Okay then Eric, you know the drill by now. I’m going to put this straw in your mouth so you can eat the soup alright?” He carefully coaxed his lips apart and put the straw in his mouth. This was about the fifth, sixth time, (or possibly even more), he had done this since early yesterday afternoon when he first gave him some water. He knew that Eric had no choice but to swallow. He just couldn’t seem to take much more than half a glass of water in one sitting. How would he go with a bowl of soup? 

Michael was about to find out. 

He felt both massive relief and a small element of pride rush through him as he saw Eric swallow. 

_Damn I hope he can get through most of it… he hasn’t had anything but water for almost forty eight hours._

“Nice work mate. Have some more, there’s plenty, and you need it. You’re not the Greedy Bastard for nothing.” 

He continued to help Eric eat the soup (which really was quite delectable – although Mike doubted if Eric would appreciate it in his current state), but it was a slow process. 

It was when Eric gagged about two-thirds of the way through that he had to stop. 

"Good job Idle. I bet you’re feeling a little better now you’ve got some food in you… even if it is soup… You know what you need to do if you want something more substantial don’t you?” 

No response. 

_Damn._

***M &E***

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

Please just leave me alone, please? 

"Oh poor little Eric… are you scared of me? Me?” 

No… 

“What’s there to be scared of? Come on Idle, seriously? Get a bloody grip.” 

I scarcely believe my ears. Surely they are sending me wrong messages or something. What’s there to be scared of??? Are you kidding me??? You personally made my life a fucking living hell for my entire miserable years at that feeble excuse of a school. It was more like a prison. 

“Don’t be bloody melodramatic Idle! And what have I told you about the language?” 

Sorry sir… 

“That’s more like it Idle.” 

I _need_ to get out of here. Will you do something nice for me for once in your life and help me? 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

Why did I even bother wasting my breath? 

Michael, where the hell have you gone? Gray? John? Anyone? 

_“Are you going to eat Eric?”_

"Hmm. That Palin seems to hang round pretty close doesn’t he?” 

Yeah… I wish he would show himself, not seemingly get more faraway with each moment. _And I don’t like it. Not one bit._

“Aww poor little mite.” 

_“Please, for me?”_

“Aww isn’t that cute? It makes me sick.” 

I like it. _Maybe even love it._

“You would, wouldn’t you?” 

_“Do I have to feed you again?”_

"Don’t tell me he’s been feeding you? Bloody hell Idle, what sort of sick, twisted relationship do you have with Palin?” 

I don’t have any relationship with him except a close friendship… _yet. And there was that thing where he did those wonderful things to me without even being there…_

“Seems to be more than that Idle.” 

Maybe it is, but I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, I want out. I. Want. Out. 

“Not a lot I can do for you Idle.” 

Typical. 

_“Okay then Eric, you know the drill by now. I’m going to put this straw in your mouth so you can eat the soup alright?”_

“Oh this is wrong. So fucking wrong. Then again, I shouldn’t expect anything more from you. At least I can’t see any of this… it’s all in your mind after all…” 

I refuse to cry. I won’t… 

Why don’t I feel anything now? I was feeling water going down my throat and I most certainly could feel him… I do not like this at all… 

Something is wrong… 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

Come on, get me out of here… 

Please… 

***M &E***

**The following evening**

_Something’s not right._

_Well it’s all pretty fucked up but I don’t like this. I think he’s becoming even more withdrawn if that’s at all possible. He’s hardly eating or drinking much of anything… well to be fair he hasn’t since this thing started but it’s getting less each time._

_Damn it all Idle. You cannot do this, you hear me Eric…_

"Are you alright Michael?” A voice startled him out of his inner ramblings that were fast turning more and more depressing and sinister. He was getting more and more troubled, anxious and worried for Eric with each day… hour… minute… second. 

He opened his eyes to find Terry sitting on the chair that he had spent the first few nights sleeping uncomfortably – restlessly – watching over an unresponsive, near comatose Eric. Where did he come from? I didn’t even hear him come in. Concern adorned his features; it was more than evident in his warm, brown eyes. 

Michael sighed, not at all certain how to respond to his old friend’s query. 

"Michael?” Terry, for his part, was rather concerned – not only for the wellbeing of poor Eric, but also for his best friend sitting beside the now introverted Idle. It looked like he had had next to no sleep since this whole fiasco began several days ago – dark circles weighed heavily under his hazel eyes. Those said eyes screamed anxiety, unease and something else that he couldn’t quite decipher. _Poor Mike. This has to be so hard on him. It doesn’t look like there’s any change in Eric’s condition either… fuck…_

“Hi Tel.” This time it was Michael who surprised Terry from his thoughts. 

_“Hey Mike, you okay?”_

Michael shrugged, again sighing. “Not really. I just don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I feel so horrible even thinking it, let alone voicing it but I just don’t know Tel.” 

Terry sighed, feeling his friend’s obvious pain. “I’m sure it’s bloody hard caring for someone who is in this state, but you’re doing a great job mate. I know you are.” 

Michael shook his head in sheer disbelief. “How would you know? Hell, I don’t even know. He’s not getting any fucking better Tel, and I don’t know what else to do for him.” 

His heart broke for the man he had written with for the last five years or more. Michael looked as if he was about to cry. Terry walked the short distance to the bed and sat down beside Mike, wrapping a friendly arm around him for some much needed support. “Oh Mike, you just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. It has to be helping, even if it doesn’t seem to be doing anything. I mean, he’s not getting any worse is he?” 

“I don’t know Tel. He’s eating and drinking less which can’t be good…” 

Terry looked grim upon hearing this news, his mouth curling into a frown. “Well no, that’s probably not a good sign, but to be honest Mike considering how he is at the moment I’m surprised you’re getting him to eat _anything_.” 

“Fuck Tel. I just want him to give some kind of response… anything. Those eyes of his are so vacant and haunting and I hate it. I should never have suggested we spend a night at Doune.” A lone tear escaped, streaking his pale face that was accentuated by those dark circles. 

Terry had never seen Michael like this before. Yes, he did have the label of being the ‘nice Python’, but he had never seen this reaction from his friend over anything. _Maybe it’s more than just guilt over a good friend’s plight…_ “It’s not your fault Mike. You weren’t to know this would happen as a result. I’m sure Eric didn’t either.” 

“It was still my idea. I don’t care if I didn’t know that that shit would go down, but it is still my fault.” 

Terry glanced over to the catatonic Eric. “Are you hearing this Idle? This is all your doing mate… are you going to stop making Palin utterly miserable and start talking to us or what?” 

No response. 

“Bloody hell Idle, this isn’t fair on Mike, you know that don’t you?” 

Michael put a hand on Terry’s shoulder. “Come on now Tel. It’s not his fault that he’s like this.” 

“And it’s not yours either. It’s just something awful that has happened that no one could have possibly predicted.” 

***M &E***

It’s painfully cold. 

It’s quiet. Eerily so. I cannot hear anything. It’s most disconcerting. 

I can’t even hear my own voice bouncing back at me… and that is unnerving. That defies all sense of physics and logic doesn’t it? 

And I haven’t heard Michael, or any of the others for that matter, for what seems like days, maybe even weeks. That is probably what scares the shit out of me more than anything. Scratch that, it is what frightens beyond belief – I did hear him earlier, and feel his presence, but now… fuck all. And I do not like it… 

I know I’m _still_ in this bloody room, but even my living nightmare has left me alone, at least for the moment. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..." 

Oh hell, I spoke too soon didn’t I? 

Why are you here? Why do you insist on continuing to make my life an utter torture of gloom? 

“How the hell do I know? I’m in your mind Idle.” 

This is not in my mind… it can’t be… why would I conjure you up after everything I suffered through your hand? 

“Oh poor Eric… you never could handle a bit of tough love could you?” 

Tough love? Tough love? 

Teachers are supposed to be firm, but fair mentors, not evil fucking bastards. 

“That’s enough of that filthy language from you Idle. Remember who you are talking to.” 

Sorry sir. Why didn’t you like me? 

“Because you were nothing more than a wimpy spoilt sook.” 

Sir… 

“And nothing has changed… you’re still a useless wimp of a thing aren’t you? And your choice of partner is blasphemous.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cry Idle? Go on then, prove me right.” 

I am not going to give you the satisfaction. I won’t… 

Michael, where on earth have you gone? Don’t you like me anymore? 

“Aww, poor old Idle. Fretting over his beloved… so cute. Sickening, but cute.” 

Someone get me out of here… 

**“Only you can do that Eric…”**

Who the hell is that? And where did that blasted phantom go? Not that that is a bad thing… especially if he doesn’t come back… 

**“Eric, my son. You can get out of this mess you’ve got yourself into.”**

My son???? That voice sounds so much more comforting than anything I’ve heard in a long time… 

**“And I’m here to help you get back to the real world.”**

Dad? Is that you??? 

***M &E***

Michael took his now standard position beside Eric on the bed, with a cup of coffee and breakfast sitting on the bedside table. 

It was now five days. Five days that Eric had been catatonic and unresponsive. _Fuck Idle. This has gone on long enough…_

He had taken to sleeping, (well, very little actual sleep – mostly a lot of tossing and turning), beside him at night… and despite the fact that he claimed it was only because it was far more comfortable than the chair, he knew that that was only a small factor in the change in sleeping arrangements. _Yeah right Palin, you know it’s more than that… it’s because you love him, and you’re fucking scared that he…_

With each day that passed, the more grave and life-threatening it became. 

The involuntary reflex movements had lessened, and for the last day or so, he had even refused to drink. He definitely appeared to have lost weight that he could ill afford to lose anyway and he just looked so frail… 

That was what most concerning for Michael (well it was _all_ concerning). If Eric didn’t start to respond soon… well it wouldn’t turn out well for anyone. 

He sighed wearily, gently massaging his temple. He was beyond exhausted, and he could only imagine how tired Eric would be… he didn’t think he was sleeping period. And Graham didn’t think so either, and he’d have a better idea than him, he was the one with a degree in medicine. 

“You realise it’s been almost a week now Idle? I mean, we all know you love the attention, but this has well and truly gone beyond a joke.” 

No response. 

He took a much needed sip from his coffee, something he had practically lived on the last five days... 

"Come on Eric, are you going to come back from wherever you are today? Do you think you could manage that?” 

No response. 

_Bugger…_

Michael glanced at the chair beside the bed. He thought back to his conversation with Eric a few days earlier. _Worth a try… again_. He mused with a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. 

"Okay Eric, you asked for it. I’m now going to play you something from your guitar, and it will be horribly awful… both the singing and playing…” 

_“You say yes,_

I say no, 

You say stop, 

And I say go go go… 

Oh no… 

You say goodbye, and I say hello… 

Hello hello, 

I don’t know why you say goodbye I say hello….”

"See I told you it would be excruciating…” He paused for a moment to collect his chaotic thoughts. “I don’t know how you can do it… it is painful on the fingers plucking at the strings…” 

He sighed, “Here’s a little spin on another Beatles classic.” 

_“Hey Eric,_

Don’t make it bad, 

Take a sad song and make it better, 

Remember to let him into your heart, 

Then you can start to make it better. 

Hey Eric, 

Don’t be afraid, 

You were made to go out and get him, 

The minute you let him under your skin, 

Then you begin to make it better. 

And anytime you feel the pain, 

Hey Eric, refrain, 

Don’t carry the world, 

Upon your shoulder…”

He had to stop there, no longer unable to contain his emotive ramblings from within. The song was just too close to home… His emotions were on the verge of spilling out into something he was afraid could reveal more than he wanted to… although hadn’t he changed ‘her’ to ‘him’ in his version of _Hey Jude_? 

He placed the guitar casually yet carefully onto the floor and with careless abandon rested his head on the older man’s shoulder. 

"Bloody hell Idle. How much longer are you going to keep doing this to us… to me?” 

No response. 

"Do you know how hard this has been? Taking care of someone who can do absolutely nothing for themselves? It’s been fucking hard I can tell you. It’s not fair Eric, it’s not…” He furiously blinked back needless tears that were threatening to escape. 

“Damn it all Eric… why can’t you say something… do something…” 

Without even giving it a thought, he all but fell into Eric’s chest, (with the blanket in-between), needing the comfort from the man he had grown to realise he was in love with. He just needed to feel something from the man – even the gentle rise and fall of his breathing and his heartbeat would do. It would reassure him that he was still here in some small form… 

Several minutes later he felt a slight movement from underneath (and it was different from the rise and fall of his chest)… 

He then felt a hand – fingers – softly run through his hair… it was so soft that had he not been on high alert he would have missed it. 

He slowly looked up, almost trembling in anticipation… 

"Eric?” 

**TBC…**

***Song credit – Hello, Goodbye and Hey Jude – the amazing Beatles. :)**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anybody who may have been anxiously waiting for the concluding chapters, my sincere apologies for the delay in posting them - this fic was finished back in July! lol 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Seven**

I’m still trapped in what has to be the most hellish place on earth. If you could even consider this tiny, horrible, freezing cold nightmare to be on this planet… and I thought that… that… that school was bad… 

I have no idea how long I’ve been imprisoned here in this godforsaken room. It feels like for fucking ever. 

I guess one thing I have to be thankful for is that miserable excuse of a teacher phantom, ghost, demon whatever title one would want to give it has finally, _finally_ gone. I haven’t been subjected to its horrid and ghastly torture for what seems like several days. 

I don’t know where Dad is either. He was here, wasn’t he? Or was that my demented imagination further tormenting me? His voice – it was so… so beautiful. Yes, it’s a “girlie” thing to say – but I can’t think of anything more apt. It fits. 

Where did you go Dad? 

I am desperately trying to make sense of what he did tell me (which seems so long ago now). He told me he would help me get back to the “real world” – what the hell does that mean? This is the real world… isn’t it? Well it’s mine at the moment. Although there have been some freakish things happening… there’s hearing (albeit faintly) Michael and the other Pythons but not being able to see them. Then there’s those… uh… moments with Mikey – him apparently giving me drinks of water, _feeding_ me, _bathing_ me – not to mention that wonderful, wonderful moment of passion… yet I could only _feel_ those happening, they didn’t actually seem to _be_ happening… 

Maybe I have slipped into some different world… well I know it’s not _normal_ but maybe I am literally and metaphorically trapped… 

**“Hello my dear boy.”**

Oh. My. God. Dad???

 **“Yes son. I’ve waited so long to see you.”**

Don’t start sooking again Eric… 

I don’t… don’t believe it. Are you really here? 

**“Yes child. It is me. Look at you all grown up.”**

But how? I don’t understand. I don’t. 

**“I wish I could say that this is real… but you hit the nail on the head moments ago, you are confined deep in your own mind at this point in time. You have been for five days.”**

My heart sinks. I want this to be real, more than I ever dreamed possible. Damn… 

**“Oh my dear boy.”**

Hang on a second, what did you just say? Something about being trapped, caged in my own mind… and for five days… 

**“Yes son.”**

Why? Why would I do that? 

**“Who really knows how our amazing and mysterious minds work? I can only suggest that this is something you had to do to overcome something from your past. Maybe you needed to face that teacher who haunted you for so long while you were at school. Perhaps that experience at Doune Castle reminded you of your school days.”**

Ugh. Don’t talk to me about those horrible horrible days. Please? I don’t want to go back… I can’t. 

**“I hate to break it to you son, but you just have in some fashion.”**

Oh. 

But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. Not that I’m complaining, I’ve wanted to see you for as long as I can remember. 

**“Me too child, me too. And to answer your question, have a think about why you went to that school.”**

Oh. I was sent there because you died. It was for kids whose fathers who had represented their country and had been killed. 

Why did you have to die so soon? Leave Mum? Me? 

**“Oh Eric my boy. It was an accident. A freakish accident. It could not have been prevented. I wish it could have, but if it had not happened… think about how different your life would be now.”**

I’d still have you Dad. 

**“Perhaps. But if you had not had gone to that school, you may not have got that scholarship to study at Cambridge and met your fellow Pythons. Could you imagine your life without them and what you men have done in your young lives?”**

I try to picture it. And I have been given some insight in the last few days because I haven’t been able to see them. And hear them for the last little while. It sucks. I don’t think I could. They’re my closest friends and I love them all… even if I don’t show that very often. I definitely couldn’t live without Michael… 

**“What about Michael?”**

Oh crap. I… I… 

**“It’s okay son. I don’t mind.”**

Really?

**“Yes, really.”**

_“You realise it’s been almost a week now Idle? I mean, we all know you love the attention, but this has well and truly gone beyond a joke.”_

Mikey? Are you here? 

**“And now, it is time for me to leave. I’ve done all I can. You now need to take that next step on your own.”**

Dad… 

**“You knew this time would come… unless you want to be imprisoned forever.”**

Yeah you’re right. I love you Dad. 

**“I love you too my dear boy.”**

_“Come on Eric, are you going to come back from wherever you are today? Do you think you could manage that?”_

I am going to try Mikey. 

It’s been long enough. More than enough… 

**“And that is my cue. Goodbye Eric.”**

Bye Dad. I furiously swipe at those unwanted tears that have appeared from nowhere. I’m going to miss you. I had not realised how much I needed to see him until this very moment in time. I will get myself back to the real world – no matter how much sweat, blood and tears it takes. 

_“Okay Eric, you asked for it. I’m now going to play you something from your guitar, and it will be horribly awful… both the singing and playing…”_

Oh god… you’re not are you? And what the hell are you doing with my guitar??? 

_“You say yes,_

 _I say no,_

_You say stop,_

_And I say go go go…_

_Oh no…_

_You say goodbye, and I say hello…_

_Hello hello,_

_I don’t know why you say goodbye I say hello….”_

Oh wow, you chose to sing one from The Beatles? You sure know how to push the right buttons… you know how much I love those guys. Bloody hell Mike, if that song doesn’t describe the current situation I don’t know what does.

 _“See I told you it would be excruciating…”_

Oh I don’t know about that Palin. It’s not the worst rendition I’ve ever heard… 

_“I don’t know how you can do it… it is painful on the fingers plucking at the strings…”_

You need a guitar pluck Michael… that usually helps. That’s not to say it still doesn’t hurt the old fingernails. I bleed for my art… 

_“Here’s a little spin on another Beatles classic.”_

You’re going to sing another one? Hell Mikey… which one are you going to cover this time? 

I get the feeling this one will be an emotional ballad – I can hear so much sadness despite your brave mask of happiness. I’m trying Mikey, my oath I am. 

_“Hey Eric,_

 _Don’t make it bad,_

_Take a sad song and make it better,_

_Remember to let him into your heart,_

_Then you can start to make it better._

_Hey Eric,_

_Don’t be afraid,_

_You were made to go out and get him,_

_The minute you let him under your skin,_

_Then you begin to make it better._

_And anytime you feel the pain,_

_Hey Eric, refrain,_

_Don’t carry the world,_

_Upon your shoulder…”_

Oh. Sweet. Jesus. Hey Jude??? One of their best of all time. Period. 

And fuck Mikey you changed the lyrics just a tad… are you trying to make me cry like a girl??? Well congratulations Palin, you succeeded. You have no idea how emotional I am right now… fuck. I seem to be crying at the drop of a hat – not unlike a hormonal pregnant woman.

Oh. God. You did say remember to let **_him_** into your heart… you were made to go out and get **_him_** … let **_him_** get under your skin didn’t you? What on earth are you trying to tell me Mikey? I didn’t imagine that did I? 

Are you trying to tell me something??? Or is that just my demented over-active, (perhaps not right now), imagination? 

Have you put your head on my shoulder??? 

_“Bloody hell Idle. How much longer are you going to keep doing this to us… to me?”_

I can hear the sheer desperation in his voice and it breaks my heart. Come on… what’s a man gotta do to get back to the land of the living eh? 

_“Do you know how hard this has been? Taking care of someone who can do absolutely nothing for themselves? It’s been fucking hard I can tell you. It’s not fair Eric, it’s not…”_

I know it’s not Palin. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. 

My heart breaks all over again, you are turning me into a girl Mikey you really are. 

_“Damn it all Eric… why can’t you say something… do something…”_

If my heart wasn’t shattered into a million pieces before it is now. Oh Mikey… I am trying so bloody hard; I really am. 

I suddenly feel a weight fall onto my chest. It feels so heavy… yet at the same time it feels so right. Like it is supposed to be there. 

Something is happening… everything is changing. 

It’s so bright in here all of a sudden. I have to shut my eyes and blink rapidly to adjust to the sudden intensity of light. When I finally readjust I soon spot Michael. He is lying atop of my chest. 

Oh what an incredible feeling it is to see him again… is he crying? 

My right arm seemingly has a mind of its own and I feel it move to comfort him. I don’t know why he is so upset but I’ll do my best to make him feel better. Those fingers decide they want to play with his dark tresses. His hair seems to have got longer. 

He is suddenly looking up at me. His eyes full of a myriad of emotions that I can’t quite decipher. 

_“Eric?”_

***M &E***

Michael could hardly believe it. It had been so long since he had seen some glimmer of life in Eric’s eyes that to see him _looking_ with at least a tiny hint of recognition (as opposed to that blank, haunting guise – although it was still there), almost made him want to cry with a mix of utter joy and relief. It appeared as if the man was, (or had been), crying – his eyes were moist from tears and those said tears streaked his pale face. That thought made Michael want to cry even more. _I wonder if he heard me playing???_

_Come on now Eric… please say something._

**He is looking at me as if I had almost died or something. Maybe I did almost die, I don’t know.**

Eric’s long, elongated, delicate fingers were still lazily, almost unconsciously – which on second thought, it probably was very much an unconscious action – playing with Mike’s growing dark brown tendrils. 

Upon realising this, Michael couldn’t help but let a smile grace his handsome and beautiful face. And it took all he had within not to place a tender kiss on his forehead. _I wonder why he has his fingers in my hair… or more to the point – does he even realise that he has? I would be very surprised if he did considering everything._

**His hazel eyes shimmer with unshed tears. By the same token, I can see unabated happiness ready to brim over. I wonder what he is thinking – particularly when a smile turns the corners of his mouth.**

**I have absolutely no idea where I am – but I do feel a little more at ease knowing that Michael is right here with me.**

His baby sapphires were furiously darting around, a total contrast to the rest of him, which was lying virtually still under the thick, warm blankets. The only difference of this Eric to the Eric he had become accustomed to was the emotion shown in his eyes. _Oh, and those fingers running through my hair…_

Michael pondered if he was trying to establish his surroundings; ascertain his whereabouts. _He looks sad… scared. Got to do something about that._

“Eric? It’s okay, it’s just me. You’re safe.” He spoke to him softly, as one would to a small child. 

After a few moments, his eyes finally landed and focused on Michael. Eric cleared his throat, swallowing as if trying to moisten his dry, dehydrated mouth. “Hang on, I’ll get you some water.” There was a glass on the bedside table that Michael had tried to give in futile to Eric an hour or so earlier. He leaned over and grabbed said glass and within moments was back in Eric’s eyeshot. “Here you go mate, you must be absolutely parched.” 

Eric gaped at him in an odd blend of vague bewilderment, as if he was asking him to speak in Mandarin or fly to the moon. 

**Is this déjà vu? I’m not back wherever the hell I was am I? Can’t be back… can I???**

Michael sighed, _Oh well, can’t expect miracles. He’s hardly likely to be his normal self for a while._

“Here, I’ll hold the glass, you take the straw okay?” 

**Right Idle. You can do this – what’s so hard about holding a straw and drinking from it?**

Eric slowly took the straw with trembling fingers and placed it between his lips. He tentatively took a sip, but it wasn’t long before he was sucking greedily and soon finished what water was in the glass. 

Mike chuckled, “Thirsty eh?” 

**Don’t think I’ve ever been so thirsty in my life.**

Eric continued to stare at him, almost in wonder – like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. _He’s not the only one._

 **Okay Eric – let’s see if you can do this talking thing now…**

“Mm- Miich-Michael?” 

His voice was practically non-existent – it was that soft, hoarse and gravelly. Which one had to expect given he had not used it for five days. 

**What the hell is wrong with my voice? It sounds like shit. Like I’ve been on some crazy bender for a week running or something. Mikey doesn’t seem to give a flying toss though… his smile could bloody light an entire house let alone room.**

Michael smiled, the most genuine and happy smile he had for five days, and again had to resist the strong urge to kiss that inviting forehead (and mouth). “Yeah it’s me. Welcome back.” 

**What is he on? Welcome back? I’ve been here the whole time, haven’t I?**

**Although I suppose this looks absolutely nothing like I remember that horrid room to look like...**

**Where am I?**

Once more he appeared utterly confused. 

“Wh- Whe- Where am I?” He eventually questioned, yet again looking all around as if still unsure as to where he was.

It suddenly struck Michael like a bullet to the chest. _God I’m an idiot. He thinks he’s still lost in that horrible part of Doune._ “You’re in my motel room Eric. We found you, perhaps a little worse for wear _(understatement of the century Palin)_ , but unharmed.” 

**You guys found me? When?**

**He said something about it almost being a week, so I guess it must be a few days. Maybe? I feel like my brain has turned to mush. Nothing seems to be making any sense… well save for Michael being right here beside me. How cute is he???**

**Oh fuck I did not just say that did I? Who are you kidding Idle?**

Eric gazed at him in surprise. It almost unnerved Michael the constant staring from his fellow Python. When Eric reached out to softly touch his face however, that _did_ unnerve him – it practically had him inwardly squealing like a teenage schoolgirl.

His delicate fingers almost lovingly caressed his cheek, before touching the dark shadows beneath his brown eyes. 

**He looks so tired. I hope that isn’t because of me…**

“You sleepy?” 

Michael blushed, astounded at this childlike, (and very cute), Eric. Here he was, practically out of a catatonic type coma and he was enquiring as to his wellbeing? It almost defied belief. He did not blush because the man had virtually intimately caressed his face – he didn’t. 

**Aww he blushed. Did I make him do that?**

“Well I guess I am a little, but I’ll be alright.” He eventually replied. It then occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten for a few days. “Do you want something to eat?” 

**Ugh. No…**

He shook his head. “Tired.” Came the simple response, and he yawned as if to emphasise his point. 

“Yeah I bet.” Michael said in empathy. “You can sleep if you want. I think you need some.” 

**You got that right Palin.**

He nodded, again unable to refrain from yawning. 

“You sleep too?” 

Mike chuckled, “Yeah I think I will.”

***M &E***

Graham knocked softly, yet firmly on Michael’s motel room door. He was with his fellow Pythons who had decided to check in on not only Eric’s plight, but see how Mike was coping. Both Terry and Gray himself had spent some time with both Michael and Eric over the last few days – Terry because he was Palin’s best friend, and Gray because he had that medical degree. The others had left them alone as much as they could humanly stand as it seemed to be far too much for Eric in his current state to have more than two people in the room. (And they did have _Holy Grail_ filming to keep themselves occupied.) Well according to Mike anyway. Apparently he could sense that it made Eric more anxious or something. 

_“How the fuck would he know?”_ Gray remembered – rather fondly – John asking, _“What is he, Eric’s personal psychic or something?”_

Now that Eric had seemingly got worse in the last day or so they just had to go and see how he was. 

They waited patiently for several seconds before Gray tried again.

“Perhaps Mike is in the bathroom or something.” Gilliam offered after a few moments. 

“Maybe he’s having a much needed rest. I know how little he’s been getting lately.” Terry mused, interjecting, quite unconsciously. 

John nodded in agreement; he had a soft spot for the warm and caring Michael. But then again, not many didn’t. “Yeah, poor old Mike. He’s taken this whole fucking mess to heart... Then again, he loathes making people feel bad.”

“We’ll he is the nice Python isn’t he?” Gilliam remarked flippantly. “I can only imagine how guilty he feels about this.” 

Terry nodded sadly. “I know exactly how rotten he is feeling for poor Eric. He told me that he blames himself – even though he knows that we, and Eric himself, wouldn’t blame him.” 

“Are we going to stand out here all bloody day?” John suddenly asked, becoming impatient. He almost rudely shoved Gray aside and loudly rapped on the door. “Are you going to open the blasted door Palin?” 

“Settle down Cleese.” Gray told him in soothing tones, touching him on the arm. “You know this isn’t the best way to go about entering a room where a person is in such a deep state of shock as Eric is. It can do more damage than good.”

John nodded sheepishly. “Yeah I know, it’s just that… you know…” 

It was Gray’s turn to nod. He was the one who knew John best. You didn’t work and write so closely with someone and not know them intimately. He was aware that John was afraid to show his inner emotions – found the mere thought of being vulnerable terribly daunting. “I know mate.”

“He must be asleep.” Terry commented. 

“Should we come back later?” Gilliam asked. 

“No need. Michael gave me the key just in case of an emergency.” Chapman told the others, with a cheeky grin. 

“Well why in God’s name didn’t you tell us this before instead of us sitting out here like fucking idiots?” John said in an exasperated tone, rolling his eyes. 

“Because it is rude to just barge in Cleese.” Gray replied without missing a beat. He then put his key in the lock and waited for the click to indicate that the door had unlocked. 

They all stumbled inside the simple but comfortable room. Four pairs of eyes were immediately drawn to the sight on the bed. Some smiled at the picture (which was quite adorable, Graham thought); others’ jaws were dropped in shock. 

Michael and Eric were both sound asleep on the afore-mentioned bed. Michael looking more relaxed than he had for some time, and Eric was almost – but not quite – encroaching on Mike’s personal space, his head resting near the other man’s shoulder. 

“Aww isn’t that cute?” Gray practically cooed. While it was no secret that he was gay – he was not a stereotypical ‘gay,’ and didn’t like to be seen as one. However, he couldn’t help but squeal like a girl at the sight he was being privileged to witness. _It is almost too private… but they are so adorable!_

The others couldn’t help but laugh at his childlike excitement. 

“Eric’s fucking _moved_!” Gilliam suddenly exclaimed, unable to keep his voice at a level considered respectable for being mindful of others sleeping. There was nothing malicious to it – he was simply too excited on realising this new development. It didn’t seem to rouse the pair though, and that was something. 

The others turned their attention to the American in bewilderment before virtually simultaneously redirecting their focus on the sleeping pair.

Terry smiled as he too realised that Eric had indeed moved. He pondered as to how no one had spotted it sooner. “Well would you look at that?” 

“What does this mean?” John questioned, directing the enquiry to the doctor of the troupe. 

“It means that he’s back. Nowhere near back to his normal, vivacious self but he’s at least a little more aware of his surroundings.” They heard come in a drowsy voice from the bed. Michael was now awake and staring with bleary eyes at his friends in a mixture of confusion and surprise. “What are you doing here?” 

“Can’t we see how our chums are doing?” Gray asked, feigning hurt. 

Michael smiled, beginning to look a little more alert. “I suppose so.”

“When did this happen Mike?” Terry asked, referring to the change in Eric’s condition. 

Mike glanced at the bedside clock, then turned to the still slumbering Eric. “A few hours ago. I was playing a little something on his guitar and the next thing I know he’s actually _looking_ at me.” 

Graham and Terry glanced at each other – both had noticed the look in their friend’s hazel eyes. 

“Was he looking at you in disdain Mikey?” Gilliam asked frivolously.

“Ha ha touché Gil.” 

It was at this point where Eric began to become restless in his slumber, mumbling incoherently. 

“Bad dream?” 

Michael nodded, shrugging. “I would think that’s highly likely given everything he’s been through.” 

“Should we wake him?” John queried, watching the resting Idle in concern. 

It was Michael’s turn to look worried. “Should we Gray? If he was woken suddenly and saw everyone here… do you think he could cope with the sudden audience?” 

Gray considered this for several moments as he watched the now rather restless Eric. “Hmm, he may not like seeing us all here as soon as he wakes. Perhaps we should just move out of his eyeshot and let him wake of his own accord.” 

“Or let Mikey wake him…” Terry remarked, his eyes dancing with laughter, a smirk gracing his features. 

“Or that.” Gray agreed chuckling.

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Eight**

_I’m not going to tell you boys that I wouldn’t mind waking him… no not at all. I’m more worried about keeping myself in check – what else I would like to do with him once he has woken…_

_I hope the dream he’s having isn’t too horrific for him, he’s been through enough._

Michael silently observed a sleeping, agitated Eric. It took all his inner reserve and courage not to gather him in his arms, tenderly run a hand through his blonde curls and place a kiss to his forehead or lips… _Or both…_

 _There are four silly men who will never let you live it down if you do something like that in front of them._ A voice reminded him, coming from somewhere deep in his mind. 

“Do you think he’s okay Mike?” Gilliam asked, his voice depicting his concern and emotion towards the slumbering Idle. Michael couldn’t help but think back to when they first met the American; it was Eric who fell in love with the man’s strange, hideous fur coat and wanted him as part of the _Do Not Adjust Your Set_ team. _Good on you Eric, for Python would not be the same without Gilliam’s animations._ It stood to reason that the two had formed a strong friendship over the years.

Michael smiled, “I’m sure he’ll be fine Gil.” 

“Alright chaps, let’s go and sit over at the table over there so we don’t startle the poor love when he does wake.” Gray suggested, “I think Palin’s right. I don’t think he’d react all that well to us being here all of a sudden. Oh, and it lets Mikey wake him up in peace.” He said, winking at the youngest Python. 

“Ha. Ha. You guys are hilarious.”

“Well of course we are, we’re Monty Python.” Terry responded, laughing with the others as they headed to the other room, chatting quietly amongst themselves. “You just let us know when it’s safe to come back.” 

Eric continued to suffer silently in his sleep. He was becoming more restless with each moment, and from Michael’s point of view it did not appear as if he was going to rouse himself out if it anytime soon. It tugged at his heart to see him struggle after everything that he had no doubt already endured in those five days of hell, for all concerned. 

He was torn between wanting to bring Eric out of his nightmare and not wanting to get shit hung on him from the others. 

_Fuck it. To hell with the others. Eric needs me._

His heart won out – after all he couldn’t stand to see people he cared about, people he loved, hurting. He wasn’t known as the ‘nice Python’ for nothing. He carefully moved so that he was beside Eric to put a hand onto his shoulder. (Eric had shifted away during his restless slumber.) 

“Eric, it’s just a bad dream.” He practically whispered, as he gently shook the sleeping man. “Come on Eric, wake up.” 

Eric made no sign that he had heard Michael. He merely continued to toss and turn, moaning unintelligibly. His eyes were rapidly moving underneath his closed eyelids, his long blonde hair wildly framing around those said eyes and pale, delicate face. 

_Oh you poor thing. Come on, wake up so I can help make it better._ The youngest Python placed his hand atop of Eric’s manly yet elegant one, hoping that this would soothe Eric’s obvious anguish. “Wake up Eric. It’s okay, I’m here, but you need to wake up.” 

His eyes suddenly flew open as he looked madly around, seemingly completely missing Mike’s presence beside him, gasping for air. After several moments, he focused on Michael, who was watching him with friendly and concerned brown eyes. 

“Hey it’s alright, you just had a bad dream.”

Eric continued to stare at his fellow Python, with fear and exhaustion the dominant emotions being conveyed in his baby blues. “M.. M… Mike?” He eventually murmured, his voice still rather gruff from its lack of use.

Mike sighed in relief, for a minute or two there it looked as if Eric may not have recognised him. In the last few moments, they had shifted to the point where there was little space between them, their foreheads almost touching. “Yeah mate it’s me. Are you okay?” 

He nodded sleepily, “Mmhm. Cold.”

“Are you cold?” 

Eric nodded again, moving a little closer to the heat the other man’s provided. His head was essentially nestled in the space between Michael’s neck and shoulder – which sent shivers through the younger man while spreading a warmth from head to toe. He noted their hands were still entwined. _Idle, you’re making it bloody hard for me to not do anything…_ “So cold.” 

_Probably a result of thinking he’s been trapped in that tiny, freezing room._ “Don’t worry Eric, you’ll soon warm up. I’ll see if there’s another blanket in this place.” 

“Okay.” Eric nodded yet again.

_Hell, he looks so adorable, his hair all tousled from sleep – and practically in my arms… when did that happen? Oh stuff it…_

Michael tenderly kissed Eric’s forehead, closing his eyes. When he opened them he found Eric gazing up at him in pure astonishment. It was like he was asking Mike, ‘What the hell was that for?’ _Oh crap, what have I done?_

Without warning Eric, for the second time in the space of a few hours, reached up to gently cup Michael’s face with his free hand. It was then Mike staring at Eric in surprise. 

_Is it just me, or is he looking at me differently? A good different… like he may just have similar feelings… oh stop dreaming Palin._

Michael felt his cheeks redden as Eric kept his hand put. He blushed an even deeper shade of red and his heart stop momentarily before speeding up quite dramatically as he watched Eric push himself up to… 

_Oh he’s not is he??? Oh he is…_

Eric’s lips were then fused with his. It was only brief, but it was gentle – almost lovingly so. 

Michael’s hand absently found its way to Eric’s golden tendrils, his fingers gently curling in his thick mane. He was unable to stop from kissing him back, with a little more force, and felt Eric respond. Their second kiss lasted seconds longer than its predecessor but was just as sweet. 

_I shouldn’t be taking advantage of him – he’s in no condition to really agree to kissing… or anything else…_

When they stopped, it was the blonde who now had a pink flush to his countenance, and both were in awe as to what had just transpired.

Eric had looked away, with what Michael could only assume was a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. He hoped that he wasn’t _too_ embarrassed. _If only you knew how much I wanted that Eric._

“S…s..sorry Mikey.” The words came so softly, Mike for a fleeting moment thought he’d imagined it.

 _Oh heck…_ Michael cleared his throat, trying to get his voice to work. “Don’t be sorry Eric, it’s okay, really.”

Eric refused to look at him. Mike sighed, hoping against hope that he hadn’t stuffed things up. _Fuck, I’m going to hate myself forever if this sets him back – or even worse, fucks up our friendship._ However, he was encouraged by the fact Eric had not moved away – he was still right beside him, still in his embrace.

It was then he remembered his friends in the other room. _It’s a wonder they’re not banging on the door, demanding to know what’s going on… they’re impatient prats – John and Terry especially._

He sighed again, before speaking to the slightly older Python. “Eric, the others have come to see you.”

This had an immediate reaction from the now more responsive Idle. (And this still pleased Michael no end.) He jerked his head up to gape at his good friend; the person who had solely taken care of him when he had gone into shock. “Others?” He probed, seemingly unsure of everything at the present time.

Michael nodded, “You know, those guys we work with – those funny bastards.”

“Oh.” 

“They’re waiting in the other room. Did you want to see them?” Mike asked him, “They’ve been really worried about you these last few days.” 

Michael observed Eric as he processed this information. He could almost see the wheels turning as he sat deep in thought. “Tired Mikey.” He finally mumbled, leaning into the younger man. 

_Just like I thought, he’s not ready._ “I know you are Eric, but they really want to see you. I promise it won’t be for long. They’ve got more work on Holy Grail to do anyway.” 

“Okay…” He quietly agreed. 

 

***M &E***

 

I’m hearing voices. So many voices.

Where am I now? 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Oh. Fuck. 

It can’t be happening again. It just can’t. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Please, God no… I don’t know if you exist, but please – don’t make me go through this again. I don’t think I’d survive; I really don’t. 

I only just made it through last time, and I only just got back to Mikey and the real world. I haven’t seen the others yet. 

I try to move – but I seem to be frozen on the spot. A heavy mist appears from nowhere, its thick clouds instantly surrounding me. It feels like the hands of death trying to choke me… 

I have to get out… fuck I hope this is a nightmare. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

No… no…. no… 

Those voices keep coming, they seem to be getting closer with each moment. They seem to be teasing me – why do they sound like young school kids? 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc... Come and play with us."

“Yeah, come on little Erica…” 

“Erica… Erica…..” 

Nooooooo……. 

_“Eric, it’s just a bad dream.”_

Who is that??? 

_“Come on Eric, wake up.”_

Well at least they aren’t calling me Erica… I think I’ve heard his voice somewhere before, but I can’t place it. 

_“Wake up Eric. It’s okay, I’m here, but you need to wake up.”_

Is that Michael? It sounds a little like him… 

I have to open my eyes… I can’t breathe…

I look furiously around, thankful for the change in surroundings. It seems somewhat familiar, and then suddenly Michael seems to appear from nowhere. Even though he looks like he’s been there for some time, because he’s right beside me. My heart skips a beat at this realisation. (Well, I hope it’s him and not a figment of my demented imagination…) 

I slowly feel myself calm down as he watches me with those warm hazel eyes. I could get lost in those eyes of his… they say so much. They scream worry. Is he worried about me? 

_“Hey it’s alright, you just had a bad dream.”_

It is him. And it was just a dream – thank god. I thought that blasted Phantom had somehow wormed his miserable arse back into my life.

Michael seems to be a little more anxious. Why? 

“M.. M… Mike?” 

Oh, nice work Idle, is that the best you can manage? 

_“Yeah mate it’s me. Are you okay?”_

Am I okay? That’s the million pound question. I am now, I’m cold and tired – I could sleep for a week – but okay. 

“Mmhm. Cold.”

And when did we get this close??? Not that I mind in the slightest… but when did that happen?

_“Are you cold?”_

I nod stupidly. I seem to be captivated by those eyes… they have this ability to draw me in. And he’s so warm… I need that warmth… him. Oh hell Idle… just fuck him already. 

“So cold.” 

_“Don’t worry Eric, you’ll soon warm up. I’ll see if there’s another blanket in this place.”_

Oh wow – is it wrong to feel such emotion for someone who shows this much concern toward me? Throw in those five days where he dropped everything to look after me while I was trapped in some hellish prison… 

“Okay.” 

Something in his eyes changes. Something I can’t quite decipher. Suddenly I feel his lips on my forehead… did he just kiss me? I don’t care if it was on my forehead – the man just kissed me! 

He stares at me as if he can’t believe what he just did. I don’t think I can either. I have to do something… 

My hand stretches to touch his face gently – one could consider it to be a caress. Seemingly out of nowhere, I find enough strength to lift myself up and before I know what is happening, my lips are on his. 

I feel his fingers playing with my hair as he kisses me back. Oh. My. God. Is this really happening? 

I pull away in sheer disbelief. Did I really just kiss Michael Palin, and on that wonderful, inviting mouth? I suddenly cannot look at Michael – what if he kissing me back was just purely a reaction to mine? Maybe I misinterpreted his kiss… I mean, it was only on my forehead. I’m such an idiot. Fuck Idle… you sure know how to tell one of your best friends that you want something more… 

“S…s..sorry Mikey.”

_“Don’t be sorry Eric, it’s okay, really.”_

Oh great, now he’s just pitying me. While I may not be able to look at him, I cannot make myself move from my amazing spot in his arms… how did that happen? I don’t care – I’m not moving ever again if I can help it. 

There was a long pause before he spoke again. _“Eric, the others have come to see you.”_

I forgot my embarrassment and looked up at him upon this statement. “Others?” Why does everything seem so confusing at the moment? I feel so so stupid… 

_“You know, those guys we work with – those funny bastards.”_

“Oh.” Well duh Idle… 

_“They’re waiting in the other room. Did you want to see them?”_

As much as I love each and every one of them (even though they are all egocentric bastards – I don’t care what they say), I’m not sure I can handle this right now… what if they think I’ve been a silly bastard?

 _“They’ve been really worried about you these last few days.”_

Well… this makes it more difficult to say I just want to sleep… 

“Tired Mikey.”

 _“I know you are Eric, but they really want to see you. I promise it won’t be for long. They’ve got more work on Holy Grail to do anyway.”_

Damn you Mikey, you know how to make me do what you want… although I’m fast realising that I’d do anything for you… 

“Okay…” 

 

***M &E***

 

“What the fuck is taking them so long?” Terry snapped, after they had seemingly waited for an eternity, although in real time was only fifteen minutes. While he loved both Michael and Eric dearly, the stress and pressure of directing a movie-length feature was getting to be too much – particularly when you added this rather significant setback of not one but two main actors out indefinitely.

“Maybe they’re having a quick shag.” Gilliam remarked flippantly. 

John visibly shuddered at this, not liking the image forming in his mind. “I bloody hope not Gil.”

Gray looked at his writing partner in indignation. “You’re not against homosexuality are you Johnny? Who cares if Mike and Eric are together?” 

“Don’t call me that.” John snapped, before sighing, taking a look at his close friend’s irate and angry face. Gray had taken offence; that much was obvious. 

“No I’m not Gray, you know I’m not.” He said, his voice noticeably softer. “I’m just not sure I wish to know what could be happening between those two in there – if there is something between them, then that’s fine… but…” 

“Hey, it was just a joke John – no need to get upset about it.” Gilliam interjected, shrugging his shoulders, somewhat flustered by the direction and seriousness to which some of his friends had taken to his little comment. “Just a little something to lighten the mood ya know?” 

Gray placed a comforting hand on John’s shoulder in a gesture of peace-offering. “I know John, I know. And even if you were, you’re not the only one in the world.” He inhaled from his pipe, “The world needs to grow the fuck up.” 

At that moment the door opened and Michael peered from the other side. The others glanced at each other uncomfortably, all wondering how much (if any), he had heard of their conversation. “He’s awake if you want to go in for a little bit.” 

“How did he take to the news of us visitors?” Terry questioned his best friend. All were most anxious to hear what news Mike had to tell them. 

Michael shook his head, sighing. “I don’t think he’s all that comfortable with the idea, but he has agreed to see you guys.” 

“How is he?” 

Michael shrugged, “He’s very tired. And still unusually quiet and not himself – he just seems unsure of the smallest thing… so take it easy guys alright?”

The others nodded, “Like we were going to just barge in and pounce on the poor thing.” Gilliam replied, grinning. “Well I’m not so sure about John…”

“Hey!” John feigned hurt, “I’m not completely insensitive.” 

“Whatever you say old boy.” Gray said, putting an arm around the six feet five Cleese. “Alright men, let’s go and cheer old Idle up eh?” 

_I hope you can do a better job than me._ Michael pondered sadly. _I seemed to have made him worse…_

“Has the role of King Arthur gone to your head?” John asked in jest. 

“You alright Mike?” Terry queried, after observing his oldest friend for the last minute. He hated the impact all this was having on Michael’s wellbeing, despite feeling for poor Eric at the same time. 

Michael snapped out of his trance. “Yeah. I’m just worried.” 

Terry nodded. “I bet.” 

They walked into the other room quietly, allowing Michael to take the lead – as he was the only person Eric had spoken to or even set sight on in five days. Michael silently praying that he hadn’t gone back to sleep in the five minutes that he had been gone – because he hadn’t been lying when he told the others that Eric was very tired – he was well and truly exhausted. Not unlike Michael himself. 

They found him huddled under the blankets, his back to them. He was rocking almost imperceptibly, but Michael could see it; his heart plummeting in empathy. “Eric?” He called out, slowly approaching the bed. 

No response. 

Michael couldn’t help but see the others look at each other in sadness. He knew what they were thinking – here we go again. “Just wait a sec.” He told them, walking round to the other side. 

Eric stared up at him, his baby blues eyeing him in unease, fear and sleepiness. “Tired Mikey.” He faintly echoed from minutes earlier. 

If the others heard Eric speak for the first time in almost a week, Michael had no idea – he was solely focused on the man in front of him. “It’s okay Eric, they won’t bite.” 

He nodded, the smallest of smiles turning the corners of his mouth, “Okay.” 

Michael smiled, and looked up to the four other Pythons.

They walked to the other side so they could see Eric. “Hey there mate, it’s good to see you.” 

“We’ve missed you.” 

“Yeah it’s been awhile.” 

“So what’s been happening in the last few days Idle?” 

Eric smiled shyly at his friends. “Hey.” 

 

***M &E***

 

The next few days followed a similar pattern. Eric did very little except sleeping – his body and mind catching up on some much needed sleep. (Michael also rested, while he had managed to get some sleep in those five days Eric was unresponsive, it hadn’t exactly been restful.) While Mike certainly did not begrudge Eric dozing the days away – he knew more than anyone how much Eric needed it to get better and feel more like himself – more than a part of him couldn’t help but feel worried. _What if this shock had affected Eric so much that it weakened him indefinitely? And those nightmares… they aren’t exactly helping him rest properly. It’s a vicious cycle._

And when Eric was awake, he was very quiet. He’d engage briefly in light, everyday conversation, but rarely for a substantial period and never initiated it. He was becoming a little more alert each time he woke, and by that he wasn’t unsure of his surroundings and knew where he was and, more importantly, who Michael was. _He is still very much like a young child – can’t do much for himself._ Michael mused sadly, as he watched a slumbering Eric – which was fast becoming the status quo. 

He wasn’t eating much – a few mouthfuls every now and then of whatever food Michael could find or order in from room service. And as for getting out of bed and actually walking around… forget it. He didn’t want a bar of it, and besides struggled to even sit up to eat. 

Michael couldn’t help but wonder if their kiss had played a part in Eric’s slow recovery. They hadn’t talked about it, not that Michael hadn’t tried… but Eric would turn away meekly and either hide under the covers or pretend to sleep. This often lead to him really falling asleep – which Michael supposed was a good thing. 

_I wish he’d open up and talk to me. Not necessarily about the kiss (although we do need to talk about that), but anything that had haunted him so badly for those five days. He seems to be retreating into himself – and that is not a good thing. Not a good thing at all. While he’s here physically, he’s drifting away again emotionally._

_What the fuck do I do now?_

 

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

**Chapter Nine**

 

Michael continued to watch a sleeping Eric in silence, his thoughts his only real company... well for the time being anyway. _Hell Eric, I don’t like this… you can’t do this to me… not again. Surely, there should be more progress than this, it’s been almost a week… oh get real Palin, he was fucking practically in a coma before he started to come out of whatever the hell it was. Or maybe he is trying to push me away…_ Mike shook his head quickly at that, “No, not a chance. It won’t work Idle, it won’t.” _I won’t let it because I love you…_

Eric woke with a start, his blue eyes darting furiously across the room. He breathed a sigh of relief when those said eyes landed on Michael.

“Are you alright Eric?”

“Mhm.” He replied, nodding. “Just a dream that’s all, just a dream…” He muttered, more to himself than his companion turned carer. 

_Poor thing. How many of those bloody nightmares has he had now? I lost count days ago._

Mike hummed in empathy as he approached the bed, his wayward hand patting Eric soothingly, which quickly turned into an errant arm round the man’s shoulder. “You’ve had a few of those dreams lately you poor thing. You’re safe now.”

Eric nodded, his pulse still going rapidly. “Yeah…” 

“You want to talk about it?” Michael asked, his voice depicting his hesitation.

Eric shook his head, gazing into Michael’s hazel orbs, unconsciously leaning into the younger man. “Can’t, can’t.” 

“It might help.”

Eric again shook his head, rebellious tears threatening to escape from those baby blues. “No, no…” 

Mike sighed sadly in defeat. “It’s okay mate, you don’t have to. It was just a thought.” 

“Okay.” 

“Are you feeling any better?” He wasn’t sure _better_ was the right word to use given the circumstances, but he didn’t know what else to call it. 

Eric shrugged non-committedly. “Dunno.” 

_It’s like pulling teeth…_

Michael glanced at the bedside clock. “You want something to eat? I’m sure they’ll have something smashing on the menu that we can order in.” 

“Not hungry.” 

Mike sighed, biting his bottom lip out of a growing frustration. “Come on Eric, you have to eat something. You’ve hardly had anything these last few days.” 

“Not hungry.” 

_Bloody hell, he is like a naughty, stubborn little boy at the moment…_

He was about to tell him that he’d be eating whether he liked it or not when there was a knock on the door. _Saved by the bell._

“Well hello chaps, I bring you lunch courtesy of the lousy catering service on set.” Gray said as a way of greeting as he entered the room. “Ooh this looks cosy!” He couldn’t help but comment at the sight on the bed… while there may have been some irritation and indifference towards the other at the present moment, they were still very close to each other – practically in an intimate embrace. _Well perhaps not, but something is going on between these two…_

Completely on instinct, Eric hid in Michael’s shoulder at the intrusion, utterly startled.

“Hi Gray.” Michael replied, somewhat surprised by Eric’s reaction. Well, surprised as to where he chose to hide away at least, given the turn of their rather one-sided conversation. 

“Hello Eric.” Gray tried, hoping that he would at least say hello. 

“Come on Eric,” Michael whispered, nudging him slightly, “You should say hi, it’s impolite not to.” 

After several moments, Eric finally looked up in Graham’s direction. “Hi.” 

“How are you Idle?” 

Eric shrugged, rather nonchalantly. “Okay.” 

“I’m starved Chapman, what goodies have you brought?” Michael asked, his stomach aching in hunger. On cue, it growled loudly, signalling its discontent. “It smells wonderful.” 

Gray chuckled, “You must be hungry if you think this is some culinary delight… it’s just a few soggy sandwiches and some soup.” 

“Sounds just fine!” Mike grinned, as he shifted to grab a sandwich. 

Graham smiled turning to Eric. “What about you mate?” 

Eric shook his head, paling a little at the sight of the food. “Not hungry.” He replied quietly.

“You sure?” Gray’s tone wasn’t accusatory or threatening – it was merely a casual, friendly enquiry. 

Eric nodded, “Yeah… sleepy.” 

Graham nodded in understanding. “Fair enough mate.” 

Michael stopped eating briefly to look at Eric, concern and worry prominent in his hazel eyes. But a part of him knew that this was an avoidance tactic; he just did _not_ want to talk… “But you only just woke up twenty minutes ago.” 

“He is recovering Palin.” Gray pointed out. 

“Tired Mikey.” 

Michael went to get up, “Well we’ll head to the other room, and we’ll let you rest.” 

Eric shook his head. “No… stay, please?” 

_Something is definitely going on between those two… and I intend to find out. They’re so cute…_

Michael sighed, his eyes softening, knowing he was defeated. He always was when it came to Eric… His Eric. “Alright.” 

 

***M &E***

 

Once Eric was sleeping soundly, the men headed into the living area of Michael’s motel room. Michael slumped with a groan into one of the chairs at the small dining table. 

“Are you alright Mike?” Graham asked, concerned. He was almost as worried about Michael as he was about Eric and his slow progress. 

Michael sighed, shrugging. “Not really. I can’t seem to do anything right Gray. He seems to be shutting me out… and I don’t like that one bit.” 

_Doesn’t look like that from my vantage point._ “I’m sure he isn’t. You seem to be doing just fine mate.” Gray replied, patting him on the arm comfortingly. “It’s always going to take some time before he’s back to the Eric Idle we’re used to…” 

“But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s never the same person?” Michael asked, his tone showing his despair and desolation. 

“I’m sure it won’t come to that Mike. Give yourself some credit mate – it’s not easy doing what you’re doing.”

Mike nodded in agreement, sighing loudly. “You got that right.” 

Graham nodded, “So don’t be so hard on yourself.” He paused momentarily, hesitating, deliberating on whether to indulge his increasing curiosity… and that insistent curiosity won out. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” 

Mike looked up in suspicion. “Well that depends, but I have a feeling you’re going to ask me anyway so just get it over with.”

Gray chuckled, “Yeah righto. What’s going on between you two mate?” 

Mike sighed again. “Nothing mate, absolutely nothing.” _Not from a lack of trying or want on my part anyway…_

Gray snorted, ‘Uh huh, and I’m the Queen of England.”

“Well there may have been a kiss a few days ago…”

“A KISS??? Oooh you sneaky devil!” 

Michael couldn’t help but smile at his fellow Python’s childlike excitement and enthusiasm. _At least someone wants to see us together as much as I do… unfortunately it’s not Eric…_

“That’s a good thing… isn’t it?” 

“Well not when Eric seems to be totally not interested…” _Even if he did initiate the kiss…_

Gray wrapped an arm around his good friend and colleague in a comforting gesture of support. “I’m sure he is… he seems pretty attached to you _Mikey_ …” 

Michael shook his head. “Uh uh.” 

“Oh come on, he was all over you the whole time and definitely did not want you to leave when he wanted to sleep.” 

“I don’t know Gray…” 

“Have you talked to him about it?” 

Michael groaned, sighing for the umpteenth time that day. “I’ve tried, but he clams up every damn time… I just don’t know what to do Gray… I don’t.” 

Graham pondered this piece of information for several moments. “Well maybe he’s afraid that you don’t feel the same way – we know how guarded Eric is despite his outgoing and gregarious persona.”

Mike shrugged. “Maybe.” _Don’t get my hopes up Gray…_

“Who kissed who?” 

“What?” 

“You heard, if Eric kissed you, he must feel something for you…” 

Michael looked up, a small grin curling the corners of his lips. 

“Ah so he did kiss you first! You just need to be patient, I’m sure he’ll be ready to talk soon.” 

“And if he’s not?” 

“I think you need a break Mike. How long has it been since you left this room let alone motel?” 

Mike shrugged again. “A few days I suppose.” _Come to think of it, have I left this building since Eric went into shock?_ “On second thoughts I don’t think I’ve left this motel since Eric…”

“Well say no more – you need to have some time for _you_ Mike. I’m sure the Terrys would love to see you back on set… you have some serious catching up to do.” He then glanced at his watch, “Oh fuck – speaking of which I must get back – Terry will have my guts for garters.” 

Mike nodded, standing up to show his fellow Python out. “Thanks for lunch, and for the talk. I really appreciate it.” 

Gray smiled. “Not a problem, you just have a think about it eh? About everything.”

“Yeah.”

 

***M &E***

 

Eric slowly opened his eyes, feeling somewhat rested. He still felt downright exhausted despite this. _What the hell is the matter with me? No nightmare… well not that I can remember anyway…_ He felt for Michael, who had been beside him when he had fallen asleep… only to find it empty, and cold. He hadn’t been there for some time. _He said he’d stay…_

 _Now be sensible Idle – you can’t expect him to have stayed here the whole time – who knows how long you’ve been asleep for. And he could have gone to get something to eat or anything… don’t panic for fuck’s sake._

That didn’t stop his heart from tumbling fast into a seemingly bottomless pit of dejection. And in his current state of mind, that didn’t take much. Everything was taken to heart; everything seemed so hard. _He said he would stay…_

_Oh just face it Idle – he’s not interested… and why would he? Why would he be remotely interested in a fuck-up like me?_

_He said he would stay…_

 

***M &E***

 

Eric finally heard the door open after what seemed like days or even weeks later, but was really only about two hours. He was grateful that he was facing away so whoever it was coming in (and it was most likely Michael), couldn’t see him; couldn’t see his tears. 

“Eric, you awake?” He heard Michael call out softly. 

Upon hearing this, he quickly forced his eyes shut, and tried to keep his breathing in a slow and steady rhythm. He did not want to deal with anything – and especially did not want to answer Michael’s questions.

“Eric?” Michael tried again, and Eric heard muted footsteps potter round the room, and a moment later he heard a click and, despite the fact his eyes were pried closed, saw (or more accurately felt), the gentle glow from the bedside lamp. _I am sleeping Mikey… leave me be._

Those faint footsteps, (while still soft) – got practically booming, (well at least to a very anxious Eric) – as Michael walked across to his side. _Oh shit…_

“Oh Eric.” He heard Michael whisper pityingly. Eric assumed he could see the evidence of his tears on his face. 

Eric had assumed correctly, Mike had indeed seen the wet streaks which immediately tugged at his heart. He suspected he was having yet another nightmare. _Can’t the man get any peace?_

The Python observed him for several moments. 

Michael sighed, easing himself on the bed and under the duvet so he wouldn’t disturb a sleeping Eric. _That’s if he is really asleep and not just ignoring me…_ He shook his head angrily at himself; _I knew I should have woke him before I left to go and visit the set. He probably woke from a nightmare or something and got scared shitless ‘cause no one was there…_

_Still, Gray was right, perhaps I just needed to get out for a bit to recharge the batteries, get a fresh perspective on the whole thing._

He rested his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. _We are going to talk about the kiss… about us tomorrow, whether you want to or not._

 

***M &E***

**The following morning**

 

Michael was sitting at the small dining table eating breakfast and reading the morning paper in the other room when he heard an almighty thump come from the bedroom. 

_What the hell was that?_ Was the man’s initial reaction, _Did Eric fall out of the bed?_

“Eric!” 

He all but sprinted into the bedroom and saw an ashen-faced Eric sprawled on the floor rather awkwardly. “What happened? Are you alright?” 

Eric stared at him for a few seconds. “Fell.” 

“Are you alright?” 

Eric saw the concern in those warm hazel eyes. _No don’t Eric, do not get lost in those eyes…_

 _Too late._

“Eric?” Michael’s soft voice broke him out of his inner ramblings. 

“Huh?” 

Michael started to become a little more concerned with Eric’s vagueness. Fuck, what if he hit his head? “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“No.”

Mike breathed a sigh of relief. “Let me help you up.”

Eric shook his head and he wasn’t sure if this was because he wanted to do it by himself or didn’t want the sweet torture of being in Michael’s embrace. “No.” He snapped, his tone quite abrupt. “Can do it.” 

While Michael felt hurt by the bluntness, he couldn’t help but also feel proud. _He’s in there somewhere, he’s just got to be given the chance to come out._

_Okay Idle – take it easy now…_ Eric slowly forced himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily against the bed; every bone seemingly aching. _Fuck, why was that so bloody hard? I’m exhausted now… just for something different._

 _Damn… I might have to get him to help me back in bed… oh God…_

Michael watched Eric silently – something that he was guilty of more often than not nowadays. The other man’s face was a picture of concentration as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. “Might need help Mikey.” He mumbled breathlessly several minutes later. 

Michael was somewhat surprised by Eric’s admission. Blind Freddy could see that Eric was not going to get up on his own in his weakened state; however he did not think that Eric would so readily admit to it… 

“Please?” A gasping whisper brought him out of his inner musings and back to the almost broken man in front of him. _Come on Palin – he’s as far from himself as possible right now… although he’s a little better than a week ago…_

Michael could easily see that the slightly older man was fast becoming very uncomfortable under his watchful gaze. He crouched down beside him on the carpet. “Okay mate, let’s get you back into that bed eh?” 

Eric nodded in relief, refusing to look Michael in the eye. He just couldn’t. _Oh hell, I’m going to be in his arms again… don’t go there Idle, don’t go there…_

 _Is he getting even more anxious?_ Mike mused, _Is that because he’s uncomfortable about being helped… (Which means being in my arms), or because he wants something more…_

“Do you want to try going to the other room and having something to eat?” He asked, expecting to be refused this request. 

Eric shook his head. _That would mean basically leaning completely on him to walk because god knows I won’t be able to…_ “Hurt Mikey…” 

Michael slowly, surely put an arm around Eric’s slender waist. Both felt something akin to static electricity course through their bodies as he did. “That’s fine – you don’t have to.” He reassured his friend. “Come on, you ready… one, two, three.” 

Before Eric knew what was happening, he was up in a standing position, and immediately felt his legs give way… and on instinct heavily leaned into the younger man to stop him falling. _Not that he would have let me fall… I think… oh yes he has – let me fall for him…_

 _I wouldn’t have let you fall Eric…_

“Alright let’s get you back in bed before we’re both on the floor eh?” 

Eric nodded.

Once he was safely back under the covers, Mike asked, “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Ah…” 

“It doesn’t have to be a full English breakfast – just some toast or something?” 

“Alright.” Eric agreed, he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no once he looked at the dark-haired, hazel eyed man. _He’s irresistible – and he doesn’t even know it… or at least has no idea that I think of him as irresistible._

Michael beamed. “Great, some deliciously warm coffee and toast coming up.” 

 

***M &E***

**A few hours later**

 

Michael was seething. He could not remember being so angry for a long time. He was _mad_. Beyond mad.

If he was brutally honest with himself – he was more hurt and thoroughly embarrassed. He had put himself out there… and got burned. Badly. But he did not want to admit that, so angry would more than suffice. 

He was walking out in the damn well near freezing temperatures, but he did not care. He had to get out. Had to have some space to clear his head and calm down. 

_Fucking hell I was so stupid. So incredibly stupid._

**_**M &E**_ **

_Michael sat on the bed. He was extremely anxious with what he was about to do. He was going to have a talk with Eric. One that had needed to be had for quite some time – and most certainly since that kiss several days ago._

_Eric for his part was watching him nervously. Almost as if he could sense that Michael was going to finally get his way and talk about it. Eric did not want to hear that Michael responding to Eric’s kiss was a mistake and should never have happened…_

_“Eric?"_

_“Tired Mikey…”_

_“Eric, we need to talk about it.”_

_Eric turned away, unwilling to look at Michael, not wanting to see the certain rejection displayed on his handsome face._

_Michael bit his tongue, not wanting to lose his cool when this unspoken demon needed to be let out in the open. “Eric, you need to look at me.”_

_“Tired Michael.”_

_Back to ‘Michael’ was significant of late. It meant that Eric was extremely apprehensive and his last method of avoidance. Michael just needed Eric to look at him and they would *finally* have that conversation._

_“Look at me.”_

_Eric knew he was beaten. Reluctantly he turned to face his good friend._

_Michael had rehearsed and rehearsed exactly how he would tell Eric how much that kiss meant to him and how much he wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Now that the moment had come, all that went out the window and he stumbled through his thoughts like a drunken fool._

_“Eric, listen… ah you know how we, you know how we had that little moment and… and moments since…”_

_Nice Palin, you’re doing a smashing job of it so far._

_“I’m not doing a great job of this. In fact I’m doing a terrible job of this, but we all know I am hopeless with this kind of thing. I just wanted to tell you that…”_

_Eric again turned away. He could not handle this. Somewhere deep down he knew he was being one big fat coward but he could *not* handle this in his current state. “Mikey…”_

_Michael finally snapped, everything suddenly just too much. “Would you fucking turn around and look at me?”_

_Eric shook his head, his entire body starting to tremble slightly. Oh now you’ve gone and made him angry. Michael. The nice Python. You’re an idiot Idle._

_“For fuck sake Idle, man up and look at me damn it.”_

_Eric began to shudder in earnest, more than a few unwanted tears slipping down his face. I hope he doesn’t look at me now… it would only make him more angry…_

_He could feel Michael get up and all but stomp around the small room. Eric was now hiding under the duvet so he couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard a door of some sort banging. Was he leaving?_

_“I need to get out of here for a while. Not sure when I’ll be back so don’t wait up. Oh wait, you wouldn’t anyway would you. You do nothing but sleep.” At that, the door slammed shut, and shattered the last of Eric’s heart – leaving a truly broken man staring at the door in utter despair._

_“Michael?”_

_“Mikey?”_

**_**M &E**_**

“What the fuck were you thinking Palin? You knew he wasn’t ready and then you had to get pissed at him… wonderful work Palin, wonderful work.”

_How far will my sheer stupidity set him back? Set us back?_

 

***M &E***

 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Oh great. Just fucking great. Like my day needed to get any fucking worse… 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Please, just leave me alone. Everyone just leave me alone. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t. 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Get me out of here… I just want my old life back. What’s so wrong about that? 

"Eeeerrrrriicccccc.... Eeerrrrriiiccccc..."

Oh. My. God. Please no…

“Oh yes Eric… I’m back.” 

It can’t be. No… this has to be a nightmare, has to. 

It can’t be you. Not you Mikey…

Eric sat up like he had been shot, gasping for breath and sweating profusely. _I did not just dream that Michael was that blasted phantom. I didn’t…_

He looked round the dark room. Where was Michael? 

_Oh, he’s probably as far away from this place as he can be… he wants nothing to do with me…_

He noticed a strange odour and became aware of being very wet, and not in a good way… 

_Fuck… I’ve fucking wet the bed…_

_What the hell am I going to do?_

He knew he could not lie in his own urine… that was not going to happen. That would be gross. Additionally, it was most unhygienic. With great difficulty he found enough strength to stand out of bed. He braced himself for the inevitable – and sure enough not a second later he found himself on the cold floor. He almost laughed at the irony of it all. 

His eyes found the bathroom. _I need a shower, or bath… whichever is easier…_

_How the hell am I going to get there?_

**TBC…**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.
> 
> This is another chapter which warrants the explicit rating... it was my first 'real' attempt at a full on sex scene - despite the events in earlier chapters. :)

**Chapter Ten**

 

Eric stared wistfully at the bathroom. _Oh god, it’s a sad sad moment when you’re longingly ogling at a bathroom… what the fuck is wrong with you Idle???_

_Michael is not going to be happy with me, wetting the bed like some pathetic school boy… like he needs any more incentive to be pissed off with me…_

_This is not going to get you into a warm shower or bath anytime soon. Michael is not coming back anytime soon and if you are going to do this, you have to do this on your own._ He thought to himself sternly, trying to get himself motivated to start the long, arduous task of making his way from his place on the disgusting brown carpet to the bathroom only five or so metres away. _Fuck, it should not be even deemed in the realms of long and arduous… it’s hardly Mount Everest._

“Come on Idle, get moving…” 

He was fast becoming more and more uncomfortable, both from his awkward position on the floor and the wet and sticky mess of his underwear and pyjama bottoms. When the hell did I get put into my pyjamas? He mused suddenly, the thought jumping out from nowhere. If Michael’s version of events in that week he was in utter hell was accurate then he would not have been in pyjamas at Doune… _he must have undressed me…_

A shiver, (that had nothing to do with the unbelievable cold he felt), ran down the entire length of his body at that thought. _Do not go there Idle, don’t…_

 _If I don’t get moving now, I’m going to be here forever…_

He fleetingly thought about trying to stand and walk, but dismissed that as soon as it came. There was bugger all chance of that happening. _Fuck… what if I don’t walk again… maybe I should have listened to Mikey…_

Taking several deep breaths, he pushed himself up on his knees and started crawling. _Thank god no one is here to see this… Oh fuck, I’m hardly thirty seconds in and I’ve had enough. This is fucking ridiculous._

He was seriously questioning deep within himself whether he would get there. But the thought of Michael (if he even came back), finding him in such a vulnerable position was enough encouragement to keep moving. Even if he had to army crawl the rest of the way. He could always relax his agonisingly aching bones and muscles once he got into that bath, or shower. _Why on earth I feel like I’ve gone through ten rounds with Ali I have no idea…_

What seemed like hours, possibly days later, he crawled onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. Now the next thing was to get his sticky clothes off his person, and get into the bath… 

He looked at the bath – another problem loomed large. He was never going to get in there on his own in his current state… the shower would have to do. _I wanted a bath damn it…_

Leaning against the shower frame, he pulled off his well-worn pyjama shirt and with careless abandon, tossed it onto the floor. Using the shower as leverage, he dragged himself up to his full height – all six feet one of him – to get out of his sticky, messy bottoms. 

At long last he was ready to soothe his aching muscles and cleanse himself of the icky mess he found himself in. He virtually crawled into the shower, closed the curtain and turned on the taps – first the cold, followed by the hot and adjusted both until he found the perfect warmth that he was more than happy to wash his troubles away, or at least attempt to… 

He sighed in relief as he allowed himself to sink to the bottom of the shower recess – not caring in the slightest if this was not considered the ‘right’ thing to do. 

_Crap… I should have done something with the sheets… fuck Mikey is going to kill me…_

Defiant tears escaped from his baby blue eyes as he thought of Michael. _I should have been fucking man enough to at least hear what he had to say… fucking hell Idle, you’re nothing but a useless coward._

 _I hope one day he’ll forgive me…_

 

***M &E***

 

Michael had no idea how long he had been out in the near frostbite inducing conditions (he had left his watch in the motel room in his haste to leave), but suspected it had been a good two hours or possibly more. 

“Why on earth did I lose it like that?” He wondered, still not quite believing that he lost his temper so badly at Eric. _Perhaps it’s because you just could not keep everything in anymore. You just had to talk to him, find out one way or the other, didn’t you? Even if it was too soon for him. But how much longer should I have to wait?_

And a still-recovering Eric no less. What was it that Graham said Eric had? Something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He had never heard of it before, but it was a new concept in the world of medicine so that was unsurprising. It didn’t sound the best thing to suffer from, and if that is indeed what Eric had, then he knew first-hand how bad, how awful it was for all concerned. 

Michael went through a mental checklist of some of the symptoms. Constant recurring nightmares. Check. Flashbacks? Well, he wasn’t sure about that one, but something was going on. Avoidance or refusal to talk about feelings (or about anything in Eric’s case). Check. A decreased involvement in significant life activities. Check – hell, even just the normal, everyday stuff was a considerable challenge at the moment. Intense negative psychological or physiological response to any reminder of the traumatic event. Check. Difficulties falling or staying asleep. Perhaps… particularly while he was virtually comatose, and he certainly did not like to be alone when going back to sleep. Difficulties concentrating. Check. 

_And you had to go and fucking yell at him like some prat. Nice one._

At that moment he heard a loud clash and rumble of thunder. “Great.” _Well it’s not like you don’t deserve it Palin._ As the rain began to fall (quite heavily), he decided he should make his way back before he caught pneumonia. And that wouldn’t bode well for anyone. 

_I hope Eric doesn’t hate me for my outburst._

_I hope he can forgive me…_

 

***M &E***

 

Despite the fact Michael had remembered to take his coat, (well he would have been very stupid not to given the fact he has lived his whole life in cold, dreary England), he was still soaked by the time he stumbled into the motel room some fifteen minutes later. 

He hesitated momentarily before entering the bedroom. _Please let him forgive me, please._ He then turned the doorknob and walked in… only to find an empty bed. 

This floored him – almost literally in addition to metaphorically. 

_Where the hell is he? And how? He can barely stand up for ten seconds._

“Eric?” He called out, expecting no response. Michael did not think he would have gotten very far given his weakened condition. It was as this thought fermented and became entrenched in his mind that he noticed an unusual smell drifting round the room. It was something he hadn’t experienced since he was a young child, something unmistakable once identified. 

“Oh hell… he’s wet the bed…” The entire time he had been looking after, caring for Eric he had not done this before. “I bet I know exactly how this happened, he would have cried himself to sleep after I stormed out (and it’s not like he doesn’t have abandonment issues already), had a nightmare that was horrific enough for him to have an accident… hope you’re proud of yourself Palin.” 

Michael shook his head, in a mixture of anger at his stupidity and guilt for adding to Eric’s misery. ”Now where is he?” He then became attuned to some noise coming from the bathroom. _Ah, he’s having a shower… hell he must have crawled in there – I’d hardly think he’s suddenly walking…_

He deliberated on what to do next. Did he leave him be for a while, let him have his shower in peace? Maybe he should take care of the now soiled bedding... Or did he go in and see if he was alright, if he needed any help…? “Would he really want me in there after I went off at him? I don’t think I would if the situation was reversed.” _A naked Eric though… that is one serious temptation…_

His mind drifted into one sweet, sweet fantasy (well, perhaps not such a fantasy given he had seen the man naked before – hell he’d lovingly bathed him). He imagined that tall, delicate, slender body all wet and shiny from the irresistible, (almost lethal), combination of soap suds and water droplets, his long blonde curls a shade darker from the water, his long legs that seemingly went forever, his most person- 

_Hold it right there Palin. You don’t even fucking know if the man is seriously interested so stop right there._

He decided that he better take the dirty bedding down the motel’s laundry. _By the time that’s done he’ll be finished._

 

***M &E***

 

Michael came back an hour or so later with clean bedding in hand. He dumped it all onto the bed rather haphazardly and was about to make the bed when he realised there was no sign of Eric. Was he _still_ in the shower? The sound of water streaming indicated that yes, he was in the shower. “Fuck. That can’t be good… can it?” 

He rushed to the bathroom door, becoming more apprehensive with each step. “Eric? ERIC?” 

No response. All he could hear was the blasted water running. A foreboding sense of dread ran right through him – not unlike that feeling of someone walking over one’s grave… And he didn’t like it, not one bit… 

In a fit of panic, he tried the door, and to his immense relief found that it was unlocked. The first thing he became aware of was condensation choking the small room. Eric must have forgotten to turn on the exhaust fan, but he couldn’t give a flying toss about that. What he did care about (and cared quite deeply), was the man in the shower, who was scaring him perhaps more than ever before in these two weeks with his lack of response. 

Michael cast the shower curtain to one side with force he didn’t know he had. He was lucky he didn’t rip the curtain from its hinges. What he saw made his heart stop… 

Not caring in the slightest that he was getting a second pair of his clothes drenched, he stepped inside and brought a limp Eric into his arms, shaking him none too gently. “Eric, wake up… come on you _have_ to wake up.” 

No response. 

_Fuck._ “Come on Eric, do not do this… you _cannot_ do this to me. Wake up, please…”

Nothing. 

“Fuck… come on you miserable bastard…” 

Not knowing what else to do, he tried the ‘Kiss of Life’. He had no idea if it worked, but he had seen it in movies and he had nothing else. Placing his lips on top of Eric’s, he breathed for him; hoping against hope that he would wake up, breathe, cough, do _something_. 

Still nothing. 

_Oh. God…_ “Eric, please don’t do this, please. I love you…” 

He put his lips to Eric’s once more, praying to any deity listening to let him see Eric’s pale blue eyes again. Several agonising moments later he felt those lips press back… 

 

***M &E***

 

It was dark. Pitch black. 

It was cold. Dreadfully cold. 

He didn’t know where he was. It was most eerie and unnerving (and that was something given everything he had been through lately). A heavy mist surrounded him, blanketing everything in sight. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure if there was anything besides him wherever he was… and he didn’t like that, not one bit. For all he knew he was the only thing in existence. 

He couldn’t see; couldn’t _feel_ anything. Ever so cautiously he outstretched his hand, waving it in front of his face. 

Nothing – he couldn’t even see that.

He wasn’t sure he could feel heart beating…

Had he died? 

Surely not… 

_“Eric, wake up… come on you **have** to wake up.”_

What was that? And who was it? And why were they telling him to wake up? 

_“Come on Eric, do not do this… you **cannot** do this to me. Wake up, please…”_

There was that voice again. Telling him to wake up… it sounded so pleading. So sad. It broke his heart. And why did that voice sound so familiar? 

_“Fuck… come on you miserable bastard…”_

Damn that voice sounded familiar, why couldn’t he place it? It was right on the tip of his tongue…

Out of nowhere he felt a presence there right with him. He couldn’t be quite sure but it felt like this person was holding him… 

And if that surprised him, feeling tender yet hurried lips atop of his completely knocked him for six… 

_“Eric, please don’t do this, please. I love you…”_

Love? Who loved him? 

Mikey??? 

Was that who it was? 

Slowly but surely he was aware of more things (he appeared to be very wet, and possibly naked – a shower?); particularly that mouth on his for the second time in as many minutes.

He hoped with all his heart that it was Michael’s embrace, Michael’s lips he was feeling, Michael who was telling him he loved him… 

Had he been forgiven? 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He could not stand the sadness, the guilt he heard in the other man’s voice, and he most definitely could not handle the suspense any longer. He had to find out if it was indeed Michael… 

He cautiously pressed his lips against Michael’s… 

 

***M &E***

 

Eric’s eyes flickered open, (and he was very pleased to be able to see colour and not just thick fog and blackness), to see a startled, and very much relieved Michael staring back at him…

Michael almost dropped his hold of the older man in shock, opening his eyes to see those baby blues gazing sleepily back at him. The heavy one-sided discussion from hours earlier forgotten he flung himself onto an unsuspecting Eric, clutching him tightly; peppering him with wet and tender kisses on the top of his head, his forehead, cheeks, nose. No part of his face and upper body was left untouched. All the while saying, “Thank god” and “I’m sorry, I love you.”

_He loves me? He loves me?_

_You better not be pulling my leg Mikey…_

_He can most definitely keep kissing me though – I love that._

In the meantime, Eric had put his arms around a fully clothed Michael and nestled into his embrace. Finally, he asked, his teeth (and whole body) chattering. “You… you… lo-… love m… me?” 

_Please let it be true…_

Even now Michael could see the fear, the apprehension in Eric. In that instant he knew Gray was right, Eric was waiting for a sign from him. He wanted to kiss that unease away. He nodded firmly. “It took me this whole fucking mess to realise it, but I do, I do love you.” 

“Re…really?”

“Yes, Eric. Really.” 

_Oh. My. God. He does love me! That’s the best thing to happen to me in such a long time. And here I was thinking he didn’t feel anything for me… except hatred perhaps..._

He saw the corners of Eric’s mouth turn upwards into a smile; a big smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Eric smile. Seeing him do so made Michael smile even more than he was sure he already was.

“Me too.” 

Michael’s smile grew even more.

Eric shivered, his whole body shuddering. It was then that Michael realised that the water had long gone cold and heaven knows how long Eric had been under the freezing water. He reached up to turn off the water and then focused his attention back to the man lying in his arms. 

“Are you cold?” 

He nodded, “Fr… fr.. freez…ing.” 

_What about you Mikey?_

He then saw Eric stare at him as if deep in thought. “You?”

Michael chuckled at this, grinning at the other man’s empathy and compassion. “Just a bit. Let’s get out of here and get warm eh?” 

_Yes, I need warmth, I’m so cold. I’m sick of being so cold…_

_And if I can warm up with you even better…_

Eric nodded again, snuggling even deeper into the younger man’s chest. “Mhm.” 

 

***M &E***

 

Michael lovingly carried a drowsy Eric to the couch. He was burrowed deep in his shoulder, alternating between watching Michael with sleepy eyes and resting those said baby blues in his embrace. Michael gently laid him down, making sure a cushion was resting under his head. 

As he did this, Eric looked up at him in mild bewilderment. “Huh? Wha?” 

Michael couldn’t refrain from chortling at Eric’s confusion. “I’ve got to make the bed before you can hop back in it mate.”

Eric averted his eyes from Michael, dropping his head in embarrassment; unable to look him in the eye. “Sorry Mikey.”

Michael sighed, and he got down on his knees to be on an even level with his newfound love. He cupped his fingers under Eric’s chin so they were looking each other in the eye, their foreheads touching. “Oh Eric, don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault.” 

The older man shook his head, clearly still embarrassed, and suspicious and sceptical of Michael’s words. “Yes… it was me who… who y’know…” 

Michael kissed his forehead, trying to kiss away his troubles. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault, okay? You hear me?”

Eric eventually nodded a minute or so later. “Okay.” 

“Good.” Michael kissed his lover (a thrill went through him at that thought, or was that the fact that he was now freely allowed to kiss Eric?), softly on the lips, tentatively at first but when he felt Eric kiss back he pushed the boundaries a little higher – his tongue seeking entrance when given an opening. Knowing that Eric shared his feelings gave him the confidence to do so. Eric greedily accepted and was quick to reciprocate, sliding his tongue into Michael’s inviting mouth. 

Eric found it almost impossible to hold back a moan, his hand absently finding a clump of Michael’s dark tendrils and fingers winding and twisting in the growing locks. His other hand holding tightly onto the younger man’s neck pulling him closer. Michael for his part had one hand similarly locked in Eric’s long blonde tresses, his free hand finding its way underneath the wet hair and onto Eric’s bare back. 

They finally pulled apart; that thing called oxygen becoming a necessity. Michael happily observed Eric for several moments, in awe of his reaction. His eyes were shut, and a sleepy yet satisfied smile was spread across his handsome and delicate face. His fingers gently brushed through the blonde curls, and then those pale blue eyes opened. They were shining and dreamy like in appearance. Michael loved to see him so happy after all he had been through, and was pretty sure what he saw in Eric would be reflected in his features. 

“You alright?” 

Eric nodded groggily. “Mhm. Can we do that again?” 

Michael laughed, “Yeah, I promise.” 

A lazy grin adorned Eric’s face. “Now?”

“I need to make that bed… unless you want to sleep here on the couch all night.” 

Eric snuggled onto the cushion. “Comfy. Stay.” He said, patting the space beside him. 

“You say that now. You’ll hate me in the morning if I let you sleep there all night. I’ll be back soon and then you can sleep on the much more comfortable bed.” 

“You sleep with me?” 

Michael chuckled, grinning; enthralled by this very cute and childlike Eric. “Yes.” 

Fifteen minutes later when Mike had made the bed (only for it to be messed up again, he mused), he found Eric sound asleep on the couch. His mind may have been playing tricks on him, but he thought that the slightly older man looked more peaceful than he had since this whole bloody mess started almost two weeks ago. It was amazing what small difference love made. Or more to the point, just being happy. _It’s funny what love can do…_

 

***M &E***

 

Eric woke up in darkness, under a cocoon of heavy, warm blankets. It was lovely to feel so heavenly warm – something he couldn’t remember feeling much of for such a long time. 

He snuggled a little deeper into the pillow, pulling the duvet tightly around him. He rubbed his eyes in the darkness. He had no idea what time it was, but suspected it was very early morning given the total blackness covering the room. _How did I end up back in here? Didn’t I fucking wet the bed after Mi-?_

He smiled to himself as happy memories from hours earlier came back to him. Michael must have tucked him in (oh how he loved that thought), after Michael had smothered him with kisses and admitted his love in the shower and then their _amazing_ kiss a few minutes later on the couch. 

Did that mean Mike was sleeping beside him? 

His sleepy smile turned into a grin as that thought took hold in his mind. A hand subconsciously felt in front of him and, then he slowly rolled over to the other side and found himself mere centimetres away from the man taking centre stage of his conscious. Michael was sleeping soundly beside him, his back facing him. Without a moment’s hesitation he wrapped his arms around his new love’s slender frame, encircling him in his embrace. _Hell, he’s so warm…_

He rested his chin on Michael’s shoulder, placing a gentle kiss in the small space between his neck and shoulder. A sliver of electricity jolted through his entire core at this one little kiss. It both startled and excited him all at once. Why would one teeny kiss affect him so much? On the flipside, if this was the feeling he felt now; imagine how much more would be? 

His wayward hands began massaging the sleeping man’s stomach and his side that wasn’t lying upon the soft mattress. He placed another tender kiss to the same spot he had moments earlier, allowing it to linger for a little longer than its predecessor. He kissed it again, this time biting and sucking gently at that spot he now seemed so fond of inbetween his neck and shoulder.

One of his hands had travelled south to Michael’s hipbone and seemed happy resting there. His other hand couldn’t seem to get enough of Mikey’s soft, thick dark brown hair, his fingers curling and brushing the dark strands. He then brushed his hair away to leave the back of his neck exposed, and proceeded to place delicate kisses all over that said neck.

_What’s got into you Idle? Are you trying to rape a sleeping man?_

_No_ , He protested inwardly to himself, _I’m trying to wake up a sleeping man so I can show him how much he means to me – say thank you for all the shit I’m sure he’s had to deal with looking after me. No more Idle, you are going to stop this bullshit…_

While he was having a deep and meaningful with himself, Michael had slowly woken from Eric’s kisses and caresses. His eyes fluttered open in the darkness, and he was pleasantly surprised to find himself in Eric’s arms – his back flush against the older man’s naked upper body and torso (he couldn’t change him back into his pyjamas… they still needed to be washed). 

He tried to keep himself as still as possible while Eric showered him with soft kisses, on seemingly any naked piece of flesh that was available to him, which admittedly wasn’t a whole lot at this point… That however was possibly going to change very quickly if Eric kept up this gentle, yet constant assault on his senses. 

He gave himself away when a soft moan emitted from his lips. Eric stopped mid-kiss, this one on his hairline, and crooked his neck so that he was looking at Michael. 

“You awake Mikey?” His voice was lower and huskier than he had ever heard it, save for perhaps when he was shooting some hot, sexy scene for Flying Circus. 

“How could I not be with you attacking my neck and shoulder with your mouth? Not that I’m complaining, it’s a lovely wake up call.” 

Eric chuckled throatily. Oh how that particular sound sent shockwaves through Michael’s entire body – ending with a familiar ache beginning to make its presence felt in his loins. It was such a joyous moment to hear him laugh – he had not heard it for so long. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Was the response given – and in a rather childish whine – albeit in that husky tone. 

Michael was somewhat concerned at this. “You okay? No nightmare?” 

Eric smiled, “No, just couldn’t sleep…” 

Mike chuckled, turning to face his bed partner (and hopefully a partner in so many more ways). “Ah right. So what do you want me to do about it Ewic? Read you a story?” 

Eric pouted in the darkness; Michael being able to see it through a tiny speck of moonlight peeking through the heavy curtains. Even if he couldn’t see it, he’d be able to readily vision it. “Noooo Mikey…”

“Well, what Ewic?”

In his most innocent voice, Eric asked, “Help me go to sleep, please?” 

“How?” Michael asked, just as innocently.

Eric closed the tiny gap between them and kissed him. It was a very brief, and very sensual kiss – and Mike was sure Eric was doing it on purpose just to give him a taste of what was to come – to get him all excited… 

“Is that it is it?” 

He could see the golden haired Eric nod. 

“So a midnight lullaby then?”

Eric shrugged, grinning. “If it involves kissing and other things, sure.” 

Michael chuckled. “A midnight lullaby it is then.”

“Mikey?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

Mike complied without question, pulling him into his arms. He kissed him greedily; Eric’s slow and tender assault from minutes earlier had put him in a rather amorous mood (which was proven by his hardening erection). Eric happily, eagerly reciprocated; as flashbacks of a dreamy memory from those hellish days came to him – Michael making him cum by merely using those talented hands of his. That, coupled with the feel of Mike in his arms, (for real this time), and his growing arousal, left him in a similar state. 

Tongues clashed and fought for control, moans and sighs of pleasure escaping as hands thoroughly explored naked flesh. Michael broke the kiss, which caused Eric to whine plaintively. 

“Hush love.” Michael breathed, as he lovingly mirrored Eric’s seduction from earlier, his lips finding and exploring the older man’s neck and shoulders. This resulted in his lover fidgeting in anticipation against the pillows; tangling his fingers in the dark brown hair for the umpteenth time that evening. 

“You getting sleepy yet?” Mike asked, as he momentarily paused from his actions, looking up at Eric. 

“Huh?” Eric’s response sounded like he had completely given into a haze of lust. Michael smiled with pride in the darkness. 

“You getting sleepy yet?” 

Eric shook his head, “No way. Don’t stop Mikey.” 

“Alright.” He shrugged, in an attempt to be nonchalant. He continued his downward trail of kisses, his mouth unable to resist devouring first his right, then left nipple, biting on each fiercely – causing Eric to moan loudly and thrust his erection toward Michael’s – before soothing each with a flick of his tongue. 

Eric was on Cloud Nine; if this was what heaven felt like he wanted, _needed_ , more. But when Michael’s wandering hands and mouth began leaving a trail of wet kisses on his stomach and belly button, he knew he _had_ to do something before he completely lost control of the situation. 

Michael was a little (but not overly), surprised when Eric suddenly sat up and said “Your turn Mikey…” 

With a strength that he hadn’t even come close to showing of late he pushed the younger man onto the pillows and kissed him hungrily, his tongue probing with force. He could easily get lost in that mouth of Michael’s… and grinned inwardly as a groan escaped from the smaller man. 

Eric pulled off the pyjama shirt – throwing it onto the bed. As Michael had done to him, Eric roamed Michael’s chest with his mouth and hands, his nose nuzzling in the tiny fine hairs. One of his unruly hands again travelled south towards Mike’s now fully erect cock. 

“Fuck…” Michael gasped when his hand did indeed find his member, cupping it through his pyjama bottoms. “Eric…” 

“What?” Eric asked slyly, his hand had snuck inside, and was now stroking his full length up and down. 

“Oh… _god_ …” 

“Do you like that Mikey?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

Eric grinned, kissing him tenderly, sensually. When they broke apart, he put his mouth to Michael’s ear and whispered, “Just you wait Mikey…” 

Having divested Michael of his last two pieces of clothing (with his help), his wandering mouth kissed his inner thigh, causing Michael to shudder dramatically in anticipation, and it was his turn to thrust his erection in Eric’s hand. 

Eric could not control himself any longer, his tongue licking the tip of Michael’s cock, ever so slowly – his long, elongated fingers still stroking, alternating between quick and slow.

Michael almost came right then and there. “ _Jesus_ Eric… so good...” 

Eric looked up and smiled. Michael sat up and met Eric for another kiss, and was able to taste his own pre-cum on Eric’s tongue. His hand now found its way to Eric’s straining erection, rubbing it gently, and Eric practically growled into his kiss. 

He took advantage of Eric’s lapse in concentration and flipped them so that Eric was again lying against the pillows. He laughed at his bemused look. “I thought you said you wanted some help getting to sleep.” He teased, his voice just as husky as Eric’s. 

Eric let out a confused grunt as Michael spat into his hand, and placed his pointer finger gently inside of Eric, causing the blonde to gasp and let out a curse. “Ssh love.” He placated, adding a second and third finger inside, slowly going deeper inside his lover as he kissed Eric’s stomach tenderly, making his way through the light golden forest of hair there. 

Eric groaned, this time in pleasure as Michael’s talented fingers did their work, ensuring that Eric was lubricated enough for Michael to slide in easily – giving the older man great satisfaction in the process. 

“You sure?” Mike asked, “We don’t have to if-”

“I’m sure.” Eric replied dreamily, his head being supported by the pillows, his hair wildly framing around his baby blue eyes, slightly damp from sweat. 

“Alright.” Gently, Michael eased into Eric’s opening, pushing only the tip in to allow Eric a chance to adjust. Both moaned in sheer delight – finally being joined as one.

Michael slowly pushed himself in, gradually getting deeper with each soft plunge. He revelled in this new, wondrous sensation – enraptured by the feel of Eric so tight around him. It was something he could get very, _very_ easily addicted to. Eric felt something akin to how he imagined girls feeling on their first time, almost unbearable pain soon followed by unbelievable bliss as his prostate was hit again and again. Michael’s hand was now on Eric’s rock hard member, stroking it in time with his thrusts. 

Eric was on sensory overload by this point, only weakly meeting the younger man’s thrusts. All coherent thought had long past him; all he could do was _feel_ Mikey… 

Michael was not far behind him – as he was fast reaching his peak – however sensed that Eric was so close to release. 

“It’s okay Eric, you can cum. You know you want to…” 

One more thrust, one more stroke of his erection combined with Michael’s words was enough to set him off – calling out “God, Mikey…” over and over as Michael continued to plunge faster and faster. Hot, sticky semen was all over Michael’s hand and stomach and hearing Eric’s sighs of sheer ecstasy had Michael following suit, releasing his seed inside Eric as he too called out Eric’s name repeatedly.

Completely spent, Michael eased his now flaccid penis out of Eric and laid down on top of his lover, snuggling down into the man’s chest. “That was… that was something else.” He told him breathlessly. 

“Mhm.” Eric agreed sleepily, lazily draping an arm around Michael, allowing him to further sink into his embrace. “’s amazing.”

“You sleepy now?” 

“Mhm… love you Mikey.” 

Michael beamed, kissing him tenderly. “Love you too.”

 

***M &E***

**Epilogue**

**Six months later**

 

The six Pythons were crowded round a television set, watching the final cut of Holy Grail. Eric and Michael were cuddled up beside each other, Eric leaning heavily into Michael, resting his head on his shoulder. He had almost completely recovered from his bout of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; he was able to resume filming, (in very short stints – requiring naps on set), a week after Michael and Eric began their romance. He still suffered from the occasional night terror – Michael wasn’t sure if they’d ever go away completely – and as a consequence hated to be alone when going to sleep. He still fatigued very easily, and Gray had told them that it would take some time before Eric didn’t feel continually tired. 

That said, the change in Eric from six months prior to today was quite remarkable. He was more and more like the cheeky, loveable, extroverted Eric they all knew and loved with each passing day – which was something they were all very happy to see. Eric, (and the others), put a lot of his recovery down to his relationship with Michael, and the man himself – after all Mike was the one who had spent so much time caring for him in those bleak, miserable two weeks. It was all Eric could do to show Michael (or Mikey as he lovingly referred to him by nowadays), how much he appreciated all the younger man had done for him. Mike was Eric’s rock, and vice versa. 

The other Pythons had found out about their relationship virtually as soon as it had started. This wasn’t surprising given the circumstances. Graham had been so excited, and naturally thrilled for the pair (and loved the fact this meant half the Pythons were gay), the two Terrys were somewhat surprised but nevertheless happy for them, and John probably took the news the hardest – indifferent but not upset by their relationship. 

“Well I think it’s turned out pretty well.” John remarked as the credits rolled. 

The others nodded their heads in agreement. “Yes, I think it has.” Michael replied, kissing a half-asleep Eric on the top of his head. 

“Look at him – couldn’t even stay awake for ninety minutes.” Gil joked, chuckling. 

“Hey, I’m awake.” Eric griped childishly, his hands leaving their spot in Michael’s lap, going up in protest – resulting in laughter from the other five. 

“Well I am – I can’t help that he’s so deliciously warm.” He grumbled. 

Michael again kissed the top of his golden blonde tresses, “Of course you are darling.” He cooed soothingly. 

“Let’s go out and get a bite to eat to celebrate.” Terry suggested. 

“Good idea.” Graham replied, and they all got up and left the room.

The last two to leave were the lovers. “You sure you want to go love?” Michael questioned, “We can always just head for home if you’re too tired.” 

Eric shook his head firmly, allowing Mike to help him up. “I’m fine Mikey, and besides, I’m starving.” 

Michael laughed, before they shared a deep kiss. “Well let’s go.” 

 

**The end.**

**Thank you so much to anyone who may have read this in its entirety I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know your thoughts. :)**


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